Before the War

Hold up in a hotel in West Virginia

Living out of a car wasn’t bad when you could sleep inside

I’d been doing it now for a few years
Life on the run
From just about everything

It wears you out
Fake
Plastic smiles
Influenced eyes

I understand why the priest brewed bread

Some say that church is where you make it, home is where you lay your head

I have no home, no religion

I live

Or at least I try to

This life, this world

It makes you question everything
Especially when you actually live it

Some say I’m brave
Some say I’m stupid
Some say I’m afraid
Some say I’m brilliant

I’m none of these


If anything, I’m just as lost as the rest of you

I’m just not afraid to say it


I may be hiding from something, but it’s not myself

Hiding from the world around you
That’s human

Hiding from yourself
That’s cowardice.

You can’t hide from yourself

Yourself always comes out

You always win

You can’t lie to yourself
You can’t remake yourself
You can’t be what you are not

You can try

But in the end

You will always be you

Love it
Hate it

No difference

You are you

Run
Run
Run
Fall and get up
RUN

You are still here
Standing still
Gone

...

I left my room around 6:30, bored & hot. For winter, it was amazing how hot my room would get by mid day. I had arrived in town a couple days earlier, all my possessions packed into the back of my truck. Strung out on caffeine and white lines, I had trouble sleeping.

I wondered town the first night by foot
There was snow melting on the sidewalks & it made it hard to walk. The town was small & dirty, as if time had stopped 20 years ago. Just cold and coal dust and the smell of a dirty river

I’ve seen hard living up close before, but this was a new kind of tough here
The kind of tough that had been given opportunity, but bought a bottle & had a kid instead. Rejection was no stranger here; some may even call her honey.

It was amazing how the smell of fresh snow melt mingled with fresh piss outside my hotel.

The charm of the place was unmistakable. It was the type of place that everyone ran to when you had nowhere else to run. Time forgot, old & quiet. Everyone had secrets here

...

Stale

Like bread left out of the wrapper for days
Moldy and hard
Crispy to the bite, sour to the taste

I can’t
Let go
Can’t
hold on

like fog on the morning
my head
fuzzy, soft
damp
between warm and cool
lost
but on familiar ground

stale
like open beer, in the morning, in july

stale
like pizza from anywhere at 9 in the morning

stale
like my life

amazing how still one can be, even on the run

stale
like 4 hour old gas station coffee

stale
like “anyone can play guitar”

one
two

stale

my ambitions
so many ideas
like too many drinks
half empty
half full


cool mist of rain
warm smell of piss

loud sirens

“anyone can play guitar”


Stale
Like the latest summer love story

How many times can you remake the classics?

Stale
Like the bed in every flop motel

Stale
Like every cover band known to man

“anyone can play guitar”


Cool pavement
Soft concrete

Sinking like quicksand

“anyone can play guitar”


Who can you blame




Who are you?