from trust that was planted only suspicion grew.
But this malnourished foundation only aids surmise,
which only leads to bad apples, hard feelings, mold and flies.
YET HERE WE FIND OURSELVES!
Trekking across spoiled land breathing in each others polluted words,
pruning our own sour makeup tale, told too short broken into three or four thirds.
Always ending with a kiss on the forehead and a tongue in cheek.
As I seek refuge and advice on those old broken roads with Mick and Keith.
Because I, alone, know,
that within those old songs rest moments of truth and indiscretion,
that a woman’s definition of love, can become a mans definition of depression.
But life never gave me lemons, but it’s sure giving me the blues,
And if I’ve learned something,
It’s that you’ve got to scrape that shit right off your shoes.
to leave the pit they live in.
knowing if they ever quit,
they’ll suffocate deep within.
bottom feeders grasp at droppings,
falling from the rats climbing higher.
so they may climb themselves,
with the energy they acquire.
gouging at the eyes of others;
monsters unaware of their sins.
piled atop another,
smothering their own kin.
screams of agony resonate in the pit,
only knowing the misery that lies within.
they tear and rip at the exit,
as I claw to make my way back in.
He was craving smokes real bad, but didn't have any money. In between paying to get his car fixed and rent there was no wiggle room for activities that he found relaxing. Staring at his dad in that hospital bed was really stressing him out- that was, of course before he found himself thinking "Fuck it." He ducked below the gurney and searched through his fathers possessions, eventually encountering a $20 bill which quickly made it's way into his pocket. He immediately headed to the convenience store across the street. "Love you, Dad. I'll be back in a bit" he said, with a foot already out the door.
His last name was Ericman. His grandfather was a German immigrant, who fought as a foot soldier for the Allied forces in the second World War. He was ashamed of his homeland and his family, who he may have personally fought and killed. Because of his shame, as well as being afraid of the prejudice he may face, he changed his name from Ehrlichmann to the Americanized Ericman. Ehrlichmann meant honest man, which his father, his grandfather, and even his grandfathers father were. He arrived at the store and walked up to the counter and asked for a box of his favorite cigarettes.
"Have an ID?" the clerk asked. He took it out of his pocket and handed it to the clerk, who observed the picture of him and read his name aloud, so the whole store could hear, "DANIEL KURT ERICMAN, that will be $7.25." Daniel paused while taking his ID and grabbing his newly acquired crumpled up 20 dollar bill. "You know what? Forget it man, thanks anyways." he said in a tone of voice that was composed of both shame and yearning and proceeded to walk out of the store, empty handed. When returning to the hospital he was required to check in at the front desk.
"Hi, Nathan Ericman is only accepting visits from direct family members at this time, are you an Ericman?" the lady at the desk asked. And for the first time in his life that he could remember, he found himself unable to answer that question.
to build a bridge and connect broken bones.
But my spine had cracked from the words said behind my back,
so I burnt it down and let the ashes settle at bay.
Never bury what you don't want to remember
because you'll never forget.
Don't keep memories six feet beneath you
keep them 600 miles away.
If you find the distance unsettling,
you may choose to keep friends close and enemies dead.
Just as long as you don't bury what you want to forget,
burn it so there's no turning back.