The Alex Show - Episode 67

You brought magic into my life,
But it was all a disappearing act.

The Alex Show - Episode 66

It was January when I first saw her. She was walking without a purpose - an incremental hangover from the previous years. Out with the old, and in with the nothing is new. Eyes sullen, hidden below the hair she purposefully refused to push back behind her ears. Someone used to do that for her. Used to. Now just the thought of the motion was reason enough to hide behind it. Shoulders heavy, tired from the weight she figuratively carried, waiting for the day she could stop defending the emblematic as problematic. You cannot see the wind, but you can feel it, and enough of it can destroy you. Providing proof was never proof enough. It only made her appear more defensive... eager… guilty. 

Spine curved, or at least that's what happened when she no longer acted as if she had one. She shuffled by, her feet brushing against the pavement mimicking the sound of the bottomless pile of papers she once rummaged through at her desk, each sheet a reflection of one day in her so-called life: seemingly infinite, covered in constructive nonsense, specifically different, yet all the same. Days like DNA of fraternal twins. Days like numbers on a calendar. Days like stats when you're losing the game. The familiarity of that shuffling sound made her cringe. A shiver crept up her spine - or where it once was - tearing limbs. Oh good, she thought, at least I can still feel. 

There was beauty in her sadness. Or perhaps it was not her sadness that defined it, but rather beauty so truly undeniable that nothing could fully conceal it. She possessed an undeniable beauty the same way the sun rises still, gloriously spilling over the mountains covering the earth with its radiance, regardless of how persistent the darkness lingered from the night before. Sadly, it is all a cycle. An ugly one at that once reversed, for the days are bright and undeniably beautiful, but the sun always sets, and the night always rises.

I stopped and paused and gazed back in her direction, my eyes and heart following suit. I could feel the wind seep into my lungs as my lips dispersed, filling me with the oxygen we all so desperately need. But nothing came out. Just more wind. You cannot see the wind, but you can feel it, and enough of it can destroy you. 

Who am I to break the cycle?

It was January when I last saw her.

FLASH FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN

I hate sixes. Sixty-six is my least favorite number. Fitting.

- afm

Time and the Ocean

You were like time and the ocean.
I could hold but a fraction of you in my hands,
And whether I kept them steady or clenched my fists,
You always slipped through.

The Road More Traveled

I bought a calendar/ to help me keep track/ I crossed off the days/ pretending X's could subtract/ all the previous moments I no longer wanted to possess/ But each marking only emphasized the pain that I wished to forget

Better sleep when you are gone/ is not a sign of moving on/ but a failure to face the days without you/ All the edges start to blur/ Memories of who we were/ are flashes of a dream you can't hold onto

So hold on before the feeling's gone/ Letting go is just a road less traveled upon/ Once you let it slip right through/ there's nothing you can do to get it back/ You can't turn around/ You can't recover your tracks/ So hold on before the feeling's gone

I bought a comforter/ to help me keep warm/ I reshaped the structure of the bed and its contours/ Different sheets, a different mattress/ A silver screen, a better actress/ What more could I ask for? A shorter road without the atlas/ A distant world without the axis/ A room without a door

Dim the lights, unload your gun/ Shut your eyes, black out the sun/ Nothing burns, no, nothing stirs, no more/ Faith aside, I lost all hope/ Curtains fall without the rope/ Take a bow, and take it all, why don't you?

Because nothing is the same/ when memories remain/ Well, pack 'em in/ We'll pack 'em in and drive/ further down the road/ We'll drive further down that road/ so when you turn around there's nothing left behind/ but you're nothing without the passengers inside

So hold on before the feeling's gone/ Letting go is just a road less traveled upon/ Once you let it slip right through/ there's no nothing you can do to get it back/ You can't turn around/ You can't recover your tracks/ So hold on before the feeling's gone

Beside A Pale Horse and Regiment

Bear your arms; prepare to take cover.
Forty-one through four are years marked for murder.
Suddenly, our poverty is greater than our blood.
Aim your gun at the head of another.

You're caught in a war,
So make sure your chambers are full.
Aim low, because you're in peril
When in sight of your foe.

Walk amongst the dead, and charge into battle.
The ground beneath the barracks starts to rattle.
The infantry and the calvary are barely raging on.
Sight your time, and pray to your God.

You're caught in a war,
So make sure your chambers are full.
Aim low, because you're in peril
When in sight of your foe.

Death can be fun, can it not?

Stab and kill.
Trample the dead.
Cut throats of your fellow man.
Show no remorse.
Shed no tears
Or mercy at all.
Stab and smile.
Laugh as they fall.
Murder we must.
Murder is just.

circa January 2006