Downstairs, halfway dead, Suckin down coffee from a black old fountain, Is a home where you lay your head? or where your fake swordfish is mounted?
Eyes-crossed, habitually I would leave the room to read but surely a tiny little pile of dark roast grounds where I once stood just enough there to keep me safe
Rained-out, wrapped right up in our metaphorical overpriced ponchos, endless rides home, circling the block for the whisper of a word we didn't know how to use in a sentence.
Saw you, went home, drank myself silly in the basement alone and the spiders were showing off a sense of humor on the ceiling spinning letters together "I let me keep you safe".
Lost art, lost boy, watching a grown man drink to 11 to 11 a.(m)pire, old joy, but everything is changing even faster than it was back then you hold me it feels like I am finally closing my eyes after a year and a half long day and I am tired as hell and so close to you, know that you keep me safe.