My anger is a sign of disgust with myself.
A stewing serenade
I hear the sirens on their way.


The chemicals inside of me just kept on
swimming through my veins.

Maybe I should make a move and try to
leave this all behind.


I listen to the absence of noise.
Dead summer breeze
I'm inflated with suspicions.


Seems I've identified again the criminal of my intent.
Imagined exercise in bed

The same routine to reinvent.

I'm just a cold face on the street,

slow and somber in my patterns.
I'm just a friend you'll never meet,
I am the love that never happens.


My days exist in meaningless ways.
I need a way to shake this.

I'm making lost time famous.

My heart goes rushing to my head,

whatever happened to me?
Weeks spin forward
I'm aware that I've been living in reverse.

I always hesitate like the future is engraved.

Roots here grow really deep;

they're networked beneath the city streets.
It's a structured kind of madness.


I always turn away back to a safer fate.
I always hesitate.