Drunk Poem

I lose a little bit of my soul

Everytime I listen to it

Everytime it makes me feel something

The past tears away a part of me

Claims it forever

And I can never touch it again

The blank emotions watch

Trying to remember what it was like to feel

Because honest to God I don’t remember

It starts to worry me

So I try not to listen to the music I used to

To keep the fading feelings safe, locked up

 

I think I never truly felt anything

That I forced it

To match the music of this world

The rhythm

Smoking in a Jazz Club

The clinking of glasses

The slow brush of the drum

Sweeping across the snare

Accompanied by a flowing piano

Gently licking up the melody

Followed by a giant double bass

Pouding out a strong heartbeat

 

Her voice, holding heavenly notes

Holding every mans attention

 

I don’t remember how I got here

Or how long I’ve been listening

But I don’t intend to leave if she stays here

 

Solo

I am an awkward chord progression

Hanging in the air

That everyone wishes would end

It’s not a problem

I tell myself

With a diagnosis at hand

The solo comes

I’m in the spotlight

I try to find my note

My special note

Up and down the guitar fretboard

I can’t find it anywhere

So I let myself swing back and forth

With the noose around my neck

Legs swaying in colourful mist

In front of the audience

Clapping without caring

 

Two Awkward Lumps of Meat

A sad melancholy song

Stuck, repeating the chorus of:

“Pixies – Where is my Mind”

Echoing within the comfortable confines

Of our room

The speakers try to push the tears out and aside

To allow the music through

We sit cuddled up together

Wrapped in eachothers arms

Two awkward lumps of meat

Stuck in self made prisons