wasting

I'm Wasting.












wastingminutes.wastingspace.
and thats why fromnow on.
ill try my









very best to stopwasting









andwandering











andhiding












anddestroying myself down.













because even though imake great efforts to stopwasting,















im still wasting all my efforts.












© 2011 the still air

bring life back home

put the fire out inside me.
please stop this burning sensation.
please rem ve ev ry th ught.
give me slight desire for                   segregation.

heal the burns,            clot the wounds.
      rem ve       the          sc rs.
give me peace.        give me rest.
   take away the                              dark.

bring life back home .


© 2011 the still air

time zones and coordinates

Timezones and coordinates
are both fancy ways of saying,
“I’m over here, you’re over there,
and there are borders keeping,

us apart.”

But placing facts out of the way,
I could never say, “in this distance,
I can still feel you here.
It’s like our bodies still remain in coexistence,

state.”

And I could never flatten the world,
drain every ocean, or build bridges.
I can’t decrease the distance,
by moving tectonic plates small tiny smidges,

because that would ruin the world,
just to make me happy.




© 2011 The Still Air

moonlight

The best i can be
only comes with moonlight
so it seems,
that sleeping isn't right.

It's the one time i'm useful,
so to let it go to waste,
is like pretending i don't exist,
like pretending my home's not a place.


© 2011 The Still Air

not what i hear

why should someone like me,
deserve something so great.
why should someone like me,
have to sit and wait.

last night, there were signs,
loud and brilliant and bright,
and they were hidden in the sky,
and i slept right through the night.

i'm here because you want me here
not because anyone else wants me here.
if i was meant to be alive, then truly i would be,
but that's not what i hear.


© 2011 The Still Air

The Train

A thought train leaving a station
appears to be heading to the little town of reasoning
instead of the city of facts.
Neither is more pleasing.

The train scheduled to leave at a quarter after four
reminds me that there is no rush this quiet morning.
reminds me that there are no more facts.
reminds me that everyone's thoughts shut down in the evening,

while mine just started its engine.
I fed it. I gave it coal.
and this reasoning that i should hate,
lacks all control.

and having no control,
                  just happens to be something I love.


© 2011 The Still Air

a creature in territory

There are moments when I am just simply
                                  a               creature
wandering aimlessly among animal       territory
                       without proper understanding of the measure .

Countless operations
              seamless excavations
curious explorations
              no restorations.

the creature I am in that moment of time
                wandering among animal territory
makes me realize, perhaps just for myself,
         how much the animal I actually am, in theory .


© 2011 The Still Air

Wake up

Wake up, wake up,
Youre wasting somuchtime.
Theres a world to hide from
When youre less than fine.
Slow down, slow down
And make the clock count
Spend time on what you know
Because falling asleep is barely an amount.
Slow down. Youre getting older.
Wake up. Sleep is a crime.
Slow down. The hands of the clock wont do it for you.
Wake up.
Sleep is a waste of time.


© 2011 The Still Air

the fever

It's     really all          a game,
Where I don't             win or lose.
I'm more    of just the         observation,
With a    confused        FUSE.

In a  moment,   from    spiking,
To  the moment of        looow,
I'm      afraid of my mind,
And the places it will       go.

I'll sacrifice the         hours,
  In an        attempt  for  warm,
Under my   cold   sea of     blankets,
In      this   eye   of    the   minds  storm.

It's a matter     of        time,
Until   the   clock  finalizes,
And    inthat  matter of time,
All   I'll  realize    is

i like   feeling alive  .

© 2010 The Still Air

never desert me here

feed the secrets,
      repress regret
      set new levels
entering reject.


Represent the represented
      we need rest.
      sleeplessness renders,

the deserted’s needs best.



Helpless, tense,
       secrets depress deeper,

       hence the neglected feel,

sweetlessness dwells perverse.



They feed me the embers,

      The essence enters there,
      nevertheless we let them
they never desert me here.


                                        never desert me here.

© 2010 The Still Air

an edge

that tiniest piece,
                that pushes people off the edge,
i'm seeing it,
                form with me on the ledge.

you could say,
                 i'm frightened, nonetheless,
but i'm not afraid to,
                 stand out and confess.

so if you wind up,
                 passing me on the street,
give me a push,
                 see if I stand on my feet.

© 2010 The Still Air

before this

              It makes          Noise
me wander                            destroys the
               from just        simple life
a bother makes you fall
   turning thoughts         into melodies
from one lie causing alone
        into another         and another
and I watch being
 until silence         doesn’t exist
grabs a hold and you can’t
       and you can’t         seem to remember
help, even                               yourself or
          if there was         any other point
any way to help to living
                  before         this
I stager off into broken life.
    thin air.

© 2010 The Still Air

just paper.

                                                            
disconsolate paper sings for someone to
come and write just a simple song. anyo
ne could write, anyone can write and wi
th writing, really, what could go wrong?
i am the paper and i just want some pen
to etch it’s thoughts and write out its am
en. i need someone faithful and true. Ple
ase write this life out. i’m calling to you. 
i’m wiped clean of any possible flaw; i'  
m just a blank piece of paper, why can’t
anybody draw on me, write notes on me
Secret notes, love notes, even hates too.
a drawing of a future. A drawing of truth
. what am i for if no ones to etch on me  
a future, a story, a life amazing and free?

i mean, i really am just a piece of paper. 

© 2010 The Still Air

Burning Bridges

I most        definately can't
       buildabridge
but i can            build
                      quite the         ledge

one to dangle my feet
                                    over
or walk          right off
leave      no one     to                    bother

i did        pushyourlimits
& i pushed them                  far
and our   bridge lit the sky
& fell
         down       hard

rebuildingabridge
takes         many months           just to train
i can't                     do it in your time
& i'd just           burn         it again           .

© 2010 The Still Air

discrimination.

planting feet on firm foundation,
where i stand is solid plantation,
but i find now, i've no explanation,
I'm hiding all of my frustration,
inbetween cracks of fake elation,
cause now, I learn, i'm a creation,
finding my way to a new location,
I can't live up to expectations,
i'm just my own personification,
learning through infatuation.
Discovering the horrors of imagination,
finding it's only collaboration,
of my mind and fear of my desperation,
cause what i'm going through, you've no relation,
I've stormed the beaches of compassion,
hearing voices and screaming vibrations,
I'm trying so hard, to run from temptation,
but only finding more cheap sensations.
Sometimes my mind will take a vacation,
from scared to alone, then back to hesitation,
and i stutter my words, in my own deprivation,
but i'm finding peace in salvation.
being one with someone, allows integration,
back to health,
cause the only discrimination,
is from me to myself.

© 2010 The Still Air

walls.

are these muffled crIes,
 and stupId lullaby’s,
enough just to get by
 your sore, dIsconsolate heart?

             i am
        falling
                   falling

  failing...

Is your Inconsolable heart,
 rememberIng depart?
Is It mIssIng a part?
 or Is It mIssIng out?

               i am
                               calling
        calling

  failing...

Is there somethIng InsIde,
 that scares away your butterflIes?
that takes all your prIde?
 that turns your lIt heart to dawn?

 i am
      watching
                watching

   waiting...

waIting for a tIme where doors are opened?
 when you can depend,
on someone as close as a frIend?
 or just for someone’s heart?

                             tell me,
       when i am left between
                                  four symmetrical walls,
someone like me is no longer
            struck by calls?

makes me wonder...


                 god put,
   everything around me,
                     and called me his own,
and the things as useless to me
       as a telephone,

make me wonder...

               wonder why,
          i was put on this earth
 with everyone else,
yet i am seeing no signs
                                of the slightest pulse,

so why am i alive?

why
                do i sit talking to walls
   when i should be talking with someone?
why
                do i stand in awe of others talent,
   when i am merely as talented as them?
why
                do i dread life’s failures,
   when i should be learning from them?
why
                when i am given something wonderful,
     i simply let it drift away?
why
                                   do i do the things I do,
           when i am the one who hates them?
why
             does my mind wander,
          when the path is right in front?

                                                              i am learning that life,
                                       is not good enough for all of us,
                             but, for me, the only strife,
          is between me and a wall.

                           So a glimpse to my future.
              falling
        falling




  failing...

© 2010 The Still Air

Alive.

Help, a word commonly used when one is troubled,
But my trouble won't stop, and help isn't the word I would've used.
I think just a few more drinks, I'll be fine... I'll be fine even when I've stumbled.
I feel them at my back, laughing, God, Why are they so amused?

love... Love? well, I never new real love.
True I had her every now and again. It was just her to myself
but she.. she seemed so... so proud of,
so damn proud of herself.

And the chemicals. Yes! The depressants,
Thank God for the narcotics that filled my breath.
who knew such wonderful things could come from plants,
and... and... fuck, I can see my death.

I was drunk at the wheel, summer of 08.
They said "get a taxi", but I was out of my mind.
If they had just helped instead letting me take the wheel of fate...
It's not my fault, right? cause something tells me it is... something inside

I lay here now... alone, but alive.
I'll cling onto life, no matter what's happened.
I know... I know I should've, could've strived,
but, lets face it, we all get distracted.

So as I lie here on my bedroom floor, tears...
tears across my face and scars on my arms,
I'm confused, and I doubted you for years.
but you... you can take me from worlds reach... from the worlds harm.

Help, it's hard enough just to think I'm alive...

© 2010 The Still Air

If?

If life is not worth                       living,
then why are           we still here?
From lifeanddeath we're                           hiding,
underneath our
            fear.

And if life is not worth               undertaking,
then why do          we still care?
Forgetting       almost                          everything,
                                   air.
and tossing it in the

And if life cannot be comp   lete,
then why do I      feelthisway?
about all the times                   we'll meet.
and all                the words we'll say.

And if I was put on this
        earth,
was it to be                    nexttoyou?
The fire inside,
                      brought up from birth,
tell me,                                       can you see it too?

But if it was                               all coincidence,
then why should it happen to                             me?
May I say,                         if it's not pretense,
then clearly, i can't see?

                    If it takes a heart to find a heart,
would you let it die?
                   Would you save me, or do your part,
If I fell down tonight?

© 2010 The Still Air