chance of rain

30.9.02

i am a tree
i shall not move

you can cut me down
or make me strong

but if you take care of me
i'll do my best to give you shelter

i am a tree
i shall not move

. . . x . . . . . . . .

she sat on her porch
and looked up to the sky
there was no point in wiping
the tears from her eye

some stories you hear
and you soon forget
but some hang over your head
they won't let you forget

some souls in this world
only graze the surface
but reach straight through
to your bones

if it was only a flesh wound
she'd just walk away
but her heart
was melting away.

. . . x . . . . . . . .

stand tall
that's a joke
act aloof
i couldn't even if i tried
it's not me
i can't hide what i feel
try as i might

and maybe it's cool
to be cold and icy
but you see
that's not me
i can't be that girl
i have to tell the world

and i can't help but get excited
about things you deem childish
and i don't mind
being the fool
once in a while
or more often than not

and you might laugh
while i reel
but i can't help
the way i feel

it's not my nature to hide
i can't say i'm unaffected
even if its me against the world
i can't be that girl

it might be stupid
and it might seem funny
when i abandon all sense of logic
but take a walk in my shoes
and you might feel something
and something
is better than nothing

i don't do well trying to be calm
i'm up and down
while you're over and out



. . . x . . . . . . . .

twisted
metal and steel
life is worth more than this

. . . x . . . . . . . .

somehow i know
coffee won't quench my thirst
this time.
and the shiver that i feel,
can't be warmed with another blanket.
and one thing that could calm my nerves
would only send my heart racing

and if any of this made sense to me
i'd just write it all off as ancient history.

. . . x . . . . . . . .

fickle,
or steadfast?
i can never decide.
sometimes i forget
somethings i can't hide.
am i settling down
or just starting up?
what do you think?
what was i thinking
sometimes you're dead on
or were you not really aiming?
why does my head hurt
and the breeze feel so heavy
fickle
or steadfast
i can never decide.

. . . x . . . . . . . .

thump.

. . . x . . . . . . . .

i like coffee, yes i do!
i only quit when i have the flu!
keeps me awake
and makes me shake
not much rhymes with coffee
except for maybe toffee



. . . x . . . . . . . .

what makes you want to kick things?
what makes you chew your fingertips to the bone?
i want to know.
because you do.
what pushes you right off the edge?
what tests your sanity?
what would it take
to blow your mind?
i want to know.
i want to know what makes you tick.
i want to know what makes you squirm.

why am i standing here?
just biting on my thumb.
what did i hope to say to you?
why did you turn away so fast?
i never said that i was done.

. . . x . . . . . . . .