this instance blacked in ignorant bliss when on the darkened water nothing innocent came with that kiss in moments in the standstill spoken words were on the tips and wrapped within our lips, skipped the world with fingers curled, pressed into your skin. i dont know just what you are, but crave your taste again.
so swept away we see in only black and white, and hope for guarantee, but fear to fail and fail to see what's always in between, the only certain truth for me is life in its uncertainty and so the plan is always gray and colors meant to change, in binary behind blue eyes that only see in green and greet each sun in smirk and smile under sheets or in denial. tried and tuned, the tired few all felt the burn in dual, the only certain jewel in life, is life's uncertain truth.
we only play with fire. intrigued anonymous, infatuation at its finest behind those vegas eyes and sinners mile. blinded by the cheshire smile in the city lights and every souls desire. arm in arm along the way but only in denial, black and blue the words from who, but only for a while. i am i and you are you, but who are we to know the truth if only mortal in the sun, but true forever still to some. anonymous in love.
i wonder. to find god in an empty room when it’s been so long since i've set foot in a holy house, i doubt one would remember my name. i think there’s something i've searched for, been searching for a long time but i'd be remiss to tell you i had any sort of finite grasp on what exactly "it" is. i'd settle just to say there is something missing. there must be more to this. in all my thought i've come across more questions, and questions rise to questions. faith is a dangerous word i've questioned mine for all time and lost it in the process. now i can sit here over the low lit crackling burn of this cigarette and promise you that this inherent faith of mine lies somewhere in the great unknown, i only hope that when the smoke clears and the ashes strung out in front sting the ground that i'll find some sign in all of it, my cavalier christ. maybe i'm asking too much, but hell...you never know what might come out in conversations with strangers in the dark. you could learn more about yourself in five awkward minutes than a lifetime of comforts and picturesque made beds. i like to dream that there are still some originals out there. it’s hard to see, hard to hope it’s not a hoax. harder still to tell what’s real and what feels coming around any corner with the snowfall of false truths and idols on the firing line. the best thing to do is take it all in stride, say always what’s on your mind. move on, and keep moving on in these streets of old gold storefronts and twenty-something teenage icons that line the curbs. right here for the taking, right next to all our faded jeans and washed out American dreams.
on rainy days they met afar in peripheral bliss, but when those lonely eyes would lock in the briefest of standstill, they would always only know their lives were parallel, distilled in knee deep wish. the game they played, they fanned the flame until the smoke dismissed; and then one day, one went away, no look, no word, no kiss. the first lie and the last goodbye, immortal for the end of time.
goodbyes were never to be good at, so let's never say them. let us abandon hope, all ye who guarantee belief in death and taxes. turn out your tired, huddled masses unto unconvention, put out the sleeping ashes. awake the jaded from faded funeral plots, pour hearts in revolutionary fashion. exalt in passion for the only souls to know. the nomads. the hot blooded. the tried and true who never say goodbye so long as youth and truth and vintage clashes.
i believe in lust. trust in infatuation. breathe in closed door conversations, brief encounters never rust. blessed be the dreamers, candid be the rogues, living lives in snapshots, cause a smile stays in vogue. and by the night, all come to life. cameos exposed.
a man alone would look upon the stars, with such decisive awe, to find alone his heart. somewhere up amongst the solar stories a spark ignites across his eye, and its known that starry heart his own, has set itself apart to signify some meaning in all the streaks and dots across the the black-lit sky. all luminous and pearled it begs above a world and looms, the view picturesque and human. and should a man alone speak out his soul against the fall of night, he’ll find his heart amongst the stars, from dark against the light.
somewhere along the line there are people, turned to light, etched into experience and burned to memory. these people, the times and words they speak, the places they were when you were too, in the end they all become you. their words inherit yours to share in memorial and wisdom, in expertise for all the dreams and dreamers, for the dreamless, for inspiration and insight. alive inside baiting on every breath for every momentary escape. when your past lives are coaxed with "why's" and goodbyes. parting, losing part of you in the minds of friends and lovers, and often others. but it's all alright, its all exposure, and we're all exposed; and in the end it's all we are. a sum of all the sons and daughters from all the faster fading suns and roads from which we rose.