1. "Who Read Stories To Put Me To Bed"

    There’s a tale about a girl sending a message in a bottle
    With her last hopes to an uncertain destination
    To a heart she only speculates to care
    Like a single connection could save cause
    "The girl is an island unto herself"
    What was I looking for at the bottom of the bottle
    In carelessly shaking hands?
    Some way of cutting off a bottle-fed reputation
    But we all become a member of the family
    Involuntarily
    By subtle efforts
    Our relative mannerisms are brought to the table
    I hit the same fork in the road
    Where every path refused to lead me home
    Cause it’s hard to pass up
    Another drink, another drug, another dressed up girl to drive you off the edge to the holes that we’ve dug
    Deeper
    We take it too far when it’s hard to say no.
    And I know what you mean now.
    You really did just want someone to talk to.

     

  2. Corps

    Kids and the world wars they wage
    armed in complexes
    Of the motherland
    In the father’s name
    We are the marching militia
    to the beat of a drum
    drilled in our ears
    that we would disband
    sound veins and heart strings
    if we fall out of line
    pace, survive the times
    I will hold your spine
    What need for your nervous system
    because I am your guts
    You are my womb
    Exit in screams
    Go to your room
    Brother,
    you have your own salt for the wound.

     

  3. Fissure (Apr 19 2014)

    Drowning in an ocean of grace isn’t easy when you were born in dead air.
    Still, that shore you left behind always left you feeling stranded

    Read More

     

  4. 07.12.14

    Hello good people of the web!

    It’s your friendly neighbourhood writing dork here. For the sake of your curiosity and forgiving myself, I’d just like to let you know where I am creatively. I feel like I’m between a writer’s block and a hard place. It’s frustrating when you want to get out everything you’re feeling, but you feel worn out by the same themes and expressions. In other words, I think I’m writing the same story in slightly different ways. At the same time, everything feels suppressed. Maybe I’m just putting too much pressure on myself.

    However you look at it, please understand I’m still using music and lyrics as the safest place to feel. I’m grateful if it reaches out to anyone with a similar heart.

    Thanks for reading :)

    - audder