1.Wake
2.Sleep
It was a headache that woke me up
A motor running in the garage
The knife left in the median
Where west met east and I walked between
The lights left off in my room
And the empty bottle clanking home
And nobody knows the rush of touching her hand and the sweat
Slow and deliberate
It was the rhythm of choice
The lights and the noise
Cold cheeks by dawn
Press play and wait for day
The same repeating song
And it won't sound the same
I'm already gone
I'd leave the pages open were there anything to read
I'd walk the line for longer but don't know where it leads
The engine laid its blanket over me
But it was your voice that put me to sleep
3.Tide／This Place As A Prison
I'm sleeping through the day again
With the light from your window making shapes of your face on
the wall
And I don't wish you were here
But I'm noticing with no defense a light that doesn't go off
So give me time to reconcile my reality and the peace I can't
touch
Because while I'm sleeping my faith still never comes close
enough
I've fought off the uncertainty in believing your love would
return to me
I'm promised to a feeling thats as far away as the distance I
should keep
And I wish I could hold on to something that lasts, but all I
have is the day
And it will fade away
With the light you put out in the depth of your heart when you
turned your back
So give me time
Because I need the sun to extinguish when I close my eyes
I need the clouds to remind me that love will always hide
I need the night to remind me love's there, but on the opposite
side of my life
Drowning in an ocean with its hands tied.
4.Suburban Asphalt
My bed hasn't seen me since the young summer sun
Watched our cruel blood drive ahead of us
With its hold on our wrists, cold steel and clenched
Two years of warm moons behind us
And I've made deep prints in the grey silt
Standing south of the cold stream, bleeding wild
Like the lonely weathered street that should have taken me
I won't believe I've slept
Because the bed I've kept is that driven pavement
Droning lullabies that can't bring me back
And each solstice's sun another red reminder
Of the youth we should have had
But gave away for the pain and the struggle of finding it on our
own
And maybe the streets aren't paved anymore
With the dying days of our childhood
I'll waste the sunlight tracing this pavement
For an answer, for some feeling I almost knew
But there's no answer from the braille of worn asphalt
There's no response from the lines where our bones broke
With my ear to the floor, I'll listen for a heartbeat
But the only sound is wheels spinning free
Overturned, eyes closed, stained red
Our home is dead
5.Fever Dream
And I sweat out your fever dream
But its heat's still painted on me
I wear you like a sketch of an incision
A cut not deep enough to bleed
If there's an honest answer out there
It's that I've lingered too long
The ghost of you I thought I knew for so long was always gone
There's silence in my eyes, but there's a heat in your heart
I left my voice on the wind, tore my words apart
Pieces of this were best left scattered
Like the ashes of someone loved but lost
And if I found it buried in the soil
I wouldn't dig for the purity
It's a shallow grave
Sometimes I think it's ready for what's left of me
6.Summer Storms／Winter Leaves
I can hear your voice
It's like a siren repeating
These walls are waterlogged with the weight of a childhood
The secrets we keep in the drawers of our dressers
We slept in beds that were broken in half
Rearranged while we dreamed of windows caving
To the pressure from the storms the summers would bring
You're like the leaves, staining portraits of your absence in
the concrete
We walk the path wishing you'd return like the red season
We watched you leave
The air was cold then
Your breath made a map of your movement
It was an unsure cloud, as wandering as the words you locked
inside it
I would sink in that heat if it would take me like your arms
Make a grave for me, if you'd trace my epitaph from the shapes
of the clouds
It's this silence I've been walking through
I can't see my reflection through
This season's like an ocean, but it won't let me drown
It's too cold to breathe
But I can't make the shape of a home through the fog in front of
me
7.February
February forgot me,
and I swore, myself,
I wouldn't give my conscience
the chance to look back.
But if you're asking me now：
I'd rather see you as the ice in my veins,
so I could watch you until you disappeared.
If you were standing by me as I walked away
you could have kept me if you wanted me here.
But at least I'm making strides where the trail is cold,
my hands curled fast around the warmth I hold.
Sometimes its like a brick behind my throat,
now its the heat from her skin, beneath her clothes.
8.Our City As A Floodplain
Disconnected from the gravel in the alleys
that taught our throats to sing,
I miss these streets and how they used to hold me
like the bedroom in the suburbs where I used to sleep.
This city built it's lights like a cradle for the desperate
youth,
but when we left it was a wasted bed,
worn to death by the bodies of our darkest nightmares
and the memories our coldest sweats.
And i don't know if I could sleep again,
this place has killed our dreams.
I traced a map on the back of my hand,
but i still can't see.
How did we lose our way？
I feel like the rain, raising the water by day,
and soaking river road with the memory of what used to be.
Maybe it was me that pulled the tide,
so when the pressure gets too high,
I can disappear at the water's edge,
so i can swim in my own regrets.
But we're still separated from the river that left us here,
we grew by the silt from the floodplain,
but we withered to grey in the sun,
our veins too swollen to stay shut.
We're the waters that dried up,
we're the blood that was lost.
We're the flood that returned unrecognized,
we're the homes that never forgot.
9.Funeral Home
There's a heartbeat in everything,
and I'm holding my hands to the wall.
The feeling won't come easy
but it's the fire underneath that I want.
And I can feel the flames
crawling their way up the sides of my throat.
Its not a drink in a glass, it's a hand on the stove.
Its knowing not to come home.
So when it swallows me, I hope the black cloud billows
like the sound of sirens running through the neighborhood.
So send the ashes of my bedroom to my last known address.
I'll spread the dust of my childhood over the street i've been
left with.
I'll leave the urn open to the rain, spill it on the page,
cross out the ink of yesterday .
If theres a fire left in me, pour out my contempt and wash it
away.
If that is all it takes to keep me at bay,
I'll smolder until the embers in my eyes fade.
And if the fire shrouds this place in grey,
remind me not to look away.
There's a match behind my ribcage, desperate to catch.
I'm pulling smoke from my eyelids, but tears are all that's
left.
If there's a spark left on my tongue now, I'll feed it until
it's passed.
If there's air left in my lungs now, I'll breathe it like my
last.
10.Sleepwalking With You
When you hit the water,
I hardly knew.
When the sunlight changed,
through the waves, you say,
there was a song it sang.
I still say
I could see what you saw that day.
How the lights were so different,
but felt the same.
Maybe I could hear you scream,
I still have that dream,
I'm still sleepwalking,
my feet wet in the stream.
It starts at your fists,
under your clutch,
but it escapes and ends up,
at the place between your shoulders
that I never touch.
Before I left I said,
Nothing can stay.
You know the past has a way
of breaking up these days
into pieces that never fit quite the same.
But I'll hold this together
even with the edges frayed.
I could feel my fingers graze
the air your lips betray.
Like a dying flame,
screaming with smoke
until it fades
for that feeling when you're alone,
its a cloud that surrounds,
and it holds you now
because I don't.
And when I wrote,
I hoped love would save you,
I meant mine.
And I dragged my palms
through the gulf of your dreams,
just hoping your song would play for me too.
And when i wrote,
I hoped love would save you,
I meant mine.
And I dragged my palms
through the gulf of your dreams
hoping your song would play for me.
And when I wrote,
I still feel alone,
you were watching me write,
I just didn't know.
11.Our Home Is A Deathbed
There's a gentle wind catching me.
You're calling my name and it feels something like home.
I can feel the quickened pulse of an open door,
the calm of a quiet bed.
I can feel your arms pulling me in.
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