I had no reason I could give you
For why I wait upon this shelf
But I think the reason it comes down to
Is that I hate myself

I’ve had years to listen
To the opinions of those dear
And what I’ve learned is mine don’t matter
And that mistakes are things to fear

Now they try to stoke my confidence
But I just don’t believe
I am everything they’ve hated
And nothing that they need


You don’t know where you’re going
And it scares me half to death
You think so little of me
You don’t know why I hold my breath
You’ve made it to the atmosphere
I can’t follow you through this
One of us can see the sun
The other one is Daedalus

You think you know where you’re going
But you scare me half to death
I’ve seen the path you’re walking
And what little will be left
You’re only reaching for the light
But you’re being blinded to the darkness
One of us suffers on
The other one is Icarus


Like so many rusted parts,
Our life just never starts;
And like so much ocean rain,
We stand nothing to gain.
But still we’re pressing on,
And still we’re not quite gone;
Yet like so many quiet embers,
We are dying to our tempers.


I’m supposed to be better
Your pride, your joy
And all the things you can’t do
Are supposed to be my quick employ

You were supposed to be better
His pride, his joy
But all the things you couldn’t do
Were just a mirror, and he saw a boy

So you tell me to be better
Because the pain never goes away
And everything that I can’t do
Is just a reminder we’re the same

But how can I be better
When in your eyes all I can see
Is the doubt you still retain
And though it’s his, it falls on me.

Weak Links

So many broken links
In one long endless chain;
Everybody points, but nobody thinks
That they might share the blame.
They want to dub a “weakest”
So that it will be okay
And the chain at last will be the best
With one link thrown away.
But such chains aren’t made of people,
So easily dismissed:
They’re linked by actions and their ripples;
Made brittle by our emptiness.

Slamming Doors

It’s better than it was before:
Laughter drifts through open doors;
So why does my chest tighten,
And my heart so quickly frighten,
At every hint of sounds like slamming doors?

Is it my unpainted fears
On the wall, downstairs?
Or the memory of a child,
Imagination running wild,
Listening to the yelling coming from upstairs?

Is it a weakness that is beautiful?
Or a strength to shield my weary soul?
Or a laughter in my mind,
That says to treat in kind,
And insists that in the end, no one’s really saveable?

Or maybe it’s the path I choose
At the crossroads of lose-lose;
And maybe if I try enough
At the game of never giving up,
I’ll find that there’s a prize that even on that road, I cannot lose.


When you get past the outer edges,
It’s a fall straight down;
We’re not ones for ledges,
And there’s no road back to town.
There is no path but forward,
And it’s a drop straight down:
I would say that you were forewarned,
But I wear each grievance upside down;
With every sorrow backwards,
And every smile as a frown.