You should’ve seen the look through his eyes in that mirror. Soft and poignant. Eyes without a face. I suppose I shouldn’t laugh, after all, I did kind of push him to his midst. It was never my intention. I just wanted a reaction. Some form of stupid gesture to acknowledge that he still cares to even bother. I know I do.
	Who knows how long this’ll last really, but in the meantime, the least he can do is make up some more, sorta hopeful, rather cunty, false promises.

I Don’t Wanna Wait Too Long

I always felt like I knew what to do. Always. I knew there was something more to the endless numb parade and that she was there all along and all I had to do was listen! I feel inspired and weightless. Like speaking through walls to a human world that can hardly wait to listen. Damnit where’s the baggie? The room’s spinning, or am I outside? Who fucking cares, because despite the controversial bouts with life or death or something meagerly in between, I’m in love and I. FEEL. ALIVE.

See You Never

God? Universe? Scorpio’s or James fucking Murphy? Speak! What did we ever really know about all this. The do’s the don’ts and optimistic letter heads to 9-5 bosses. Narcissistic denial and psychotic acceptance. Pink and blue. Stop and go. She tried to get it through my head, all the faiths know I never stopped trying. Perhaps it was the headspace I had never left, that led me to the one that always lived in hiding.
	“Exit Disco,” shines over a figure in the distance. I wander over. Times up. The air smells sweet, Bacarrat Rouge and regret. I’d do it all over again.

Royalty On Summer St.

The travails begin shortly before the nights festivities. My car’s a bit totaled, but she runs amok across the city with ease; on a good day. Today was looking pretty good through the view from the cracked windshield. A tinge of gasoline lingers as I shut my door, exhale and walk towards the noise. 
	
	A few steps into the house on Burke by the course, a long and irate memory grabs me by the hand as I grip the first car keys floating by the foyer; a swift and mindless reaction. 
	
	A black Mercedes parked conspicuously under a light post laughs. Failed passion in the backseat leads to successful action on the center dash, seconds later. Her eyes are puffy and smothered in Prada. My nose is white and losing focus. The halcyon leads me back to the idyllically flawed place from where I once narrowly escaped, but not before the silence. This was a silence that was brought on by intensifying and piercing noise; ironically. It was her, she was back. The voice from the other day; and the day before that. All along I thought it was the powers sending signs through numbers and coincidence. Perhaps she was real after all.

Prada Cinemas

Wiping foreign tears from the back of my hand and clutching a doubled up piece of paper close to ripping from the sweaty angst, I come tumbling back into the party on Burke. Little sense can I make of the scene before her voice seemingly takes hold. I’m no longer in charge of the change of pace. The careless mistakes ruin my chances at saving any kind of face; not that that ever stopped me or anyone around me for that matter. The drunks, thieves and idol worshippers. 
	In the moment between a common realization and a fleeting response, she lets out a solemn beckoning call, an urge to make a statement of purpose, a statement of chance. I feel like I’m going fucking insane but I listen; I listen to her carefully as she sings.

Somehow You're Less Insane

My phone rings and amidst the noise, I hear it and pick up.
	“So this is what it’d be like,” he asks. 
	“Be like what?”
	“You and me, over and over”
	“What does that even mean?”
	“Standing idle while the world takes your essence and then closing your eyes to find that you have me. And all of this”
	“Wha…”
	“Just close your eyes, it’s easy just to be…”
The signal fails and the call ends abruptly. The silence is back and the ringing in my ears intensifies. I shut my eyes and wince as I step through the tinsel covered doorway.

Tinsel

I’m beginning to think that Chapter 4 meant absolutely nothing and as he wholeheartedly misses the point to my boundless tirade, maybe its time to say ‘fuck it all’ and move on to a much more picturesque escape. One where the neon lights run rampant and wild until whatever they said was wrong feels right. I can see it now, love at first sight with whatever delves in my shallowest of needs, tequila and 808s soundtracking the night. Oh, how I wish you’d remember the days when nothing ever went wrong, so you could open your eyes and realize that talking your way out is far, far, far and you’ve closely approached another decade of singing all alone in places always crowded and indisposed.

Larxspur

From the marble bathroom floor, the echoes and voices of youthful dissonance dissolve into the walls and throughout the house on Burke for all to hear. My eyelids waft with half-assed intent. I guess I must’ve blacked out for a minute or three ‘cause everything feels different. The house seems totaled but friendly; whatever that means. The pink and blue hues reflecting from tinsel covered doorways and pretty freebased faces allure. The 5-foot disco ball illuminating the room highlights the fires that no one cares to notice. 
	I can’t make sense of this duality. Who the fuck are these people, where am I and why is this girl going on about war and peace all while flaunting daddy’s oil digs and a mink? Politics? Good sex? Collegiate rivalries and inherited vices? Fear of Fentanyl? Best friends with the worst intentions and enemies with the best ones? Parents wondering how to be good sons while their sons wonder how to be good parents? Losing loved ones and gaining perspective? Getting lost just get the picture? Get a job, get a career. I can’t even get some Goddamn sense. What does it all mean, really? How do you suppose the rich would be best served, cold? I’m gonna take a stab at this one and guess no one really knows the answer to that one. But hey, I’m trying to meet you. All of you. With your flaws and luck and trust fund traumas. The plastic spoon births and ghetto prose and food stamp banquets. Let’s commiserate, sit and ponder over the fact that we’re just finding rowdy ways to meditate.

Chic Meditation

How To

lay off the uppers.

new single "How To" out July 14.

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