She & Him - In The Sun from Merge Records on Vimeo.

romantic bullshit?

you found me fumbling around in the dark, fingers splayed, soaking up warmth from the earth. you lifted me up and helped me into the dusk, crescent moon rising in the distance. i found my hand in yours and realized tomorrow didn't matter because in the mountains you can get lost so easily, but you will always be found.

O' attachment,
whatever are you doing here?

tired

ours was a winter love
red noses and cool fingertips
melting now that spring has come round
unfreezing my bones
allowing me to open my eyes
and see that it is better to be
what you feel
rather than
what you think
ours was a winter love
red eyes and cool nights
maybe next winter i'll see you round
and we can talk about the weather
or how much you miss late telephone calls
with some girl you cannot really remember
but you liked the sound of her voice in your ear
and the curve of her spine

this is only a test

those things you did

broken spines lying on the bedroom floor
gutless; no courage here, but there are
flowers springing up between rib bones
your fingers still don't know what to do with mine
and you say your clothes never fit right but that really doesn't matter
cause the innumerable blankets in my bedroom work so much better than your ill-fitting clothes
wandering hands and feet underneath
a bed of useless fabric:
clothes, blankets, curtains
and all i want to know is
did you mean it?

paintz and bodiez

with paint all over my hands and underneath what is left of my bitten fingernails I find solace in the fact that you and I feel the same way about the clouds and being naked and fucking; all separate.



I hope you know I write about imaginary people and events that have never happened.
all the time.

repeat

my bed's too small for all of us
but the winter is cold enough
and we're limber enough to make it
work somehow
and in the morning when the sun is
rising and I find myself the only one
awake my senses are overflowing
the orange glow coming through the window
slow breathing syncing up once in a while
coffee stuck to my teeth from 3 am
sweat and happiness filling my lungs
and a tangle of arms and legs
a maze of fingers and toes
endlessly intertwined

found these in my notebook, nothing too good.

I just cling to phrases and words,
repeating them until my breath becomes
the breeze that stirs the leaves
of the trees that used to let us
sing to them all night
they've turned bitter with the
winter months and it is never
the same now that "us" has become
"me and sometimes you"

this winter in lingering
and the sweet kisses I once received
have turned to stinging nettles
breaking my skin just enough
to let me know
I am far from the end

I once found comfort in a
camera lens and then a pen, never
a sword, now it seems my comfort comes from floating in endless space
words like "I love you" or "I miss
you" and "in the summer we will
be whole again" pass by
every one, broken

this is it
"there is no plan we can fall back on"
______________________________

I sit in this room
stereo blasting
12:47 in the morning
we talk
we shout
about finding meaning in things
and how music is something you
could do forever if you wanted
and the tracks need not be perfect
in fact we like them just that way
how else would they know we are alive?
and he is there playing a riff
from the next song that is blasting
and time was not moving
it was 12:47 forever and we
had the same conversation
and he played the same riff
for eternity
and it felt nice
for eternity
and eternity did not feel like all those philosophers told me it would
because you are my hero
and we were in the same place
talking about the same things
for eternity
______________________

waking up with your face inches from mine
is unreal and feels like betrayal
but I push that down to the place
in my stomach where bad feelings fester
"the electricity wasn't in her eyes
anymore"
and I hung up the phone when you
fell asleep, feeling like there should
have been something more to say
feeling like screaming into darkness
but we never have anything to
say anymore and I can barely read
my own handwriting because I
am shaking with fear
"her eyes were still reflecting what
was there
but now it was the sadness...."

sleepies

we slept in the same bed for
14 years.

-----------------you still snored as loudly as you did
-------------on the night of our wedding.

------------------------------until one night
---------------------------you just stopped
-------------------------------and I finally got some sleep.

do not read this, really. move on. no really.

WHY HAVE I BECOME SUB-CONSCIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH TRAINS WHAT IS GOING ON I WILL BE A CONDUCTOR WHAT AM I SAYING MY FINGERS WILL NOT STOP AGAIN AND I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT MY HEAD IS THINKING.
Oh yeah, trains.

this will surely be on the summer soundtrack

watch out.

just so easy

I found your I miss yous in the back of my closet. I hadn't seen them in a while and I guess I threw them there when I missed you too much and then they got buried, and then they got buried beneath my dirty clothes and old backpacks. I forgot how your voice sounded not distorted by telephone wires and miles. So I am writing to tell you that I miss you and I want you to come home for a while. Maybe this won't get buried among your dirty clothes and old cigarettes, but I understand if it does,
because it is just so easy.

i don't know what this is.

I woke up next to you only to discover that my dream was just a dream and you were just asleep. My feet were not worn from walking with you to the field where old traincars and bicycle wheels lie in wait for humanity to destroy them or realize they still hold some practicality, not just nostalgia.
The traincars were wooden with paint the color of rust and christmas-tree-green chipping from years of weather happening.
The bicycle wheels were few in number and normal in size, yet the spokes were not so rusted; maybe the wheels get up in the night and wander through the trainyard, finding little animals to play practical jokes on then they make their way back to their resting places to sleep all day. And in the rain they reconcile with the animals and hide in their nests, to keep their spokes shining-new, just as the first day they were ridden home. O wheels, how did you end up here?
So I woke up next to you feeling that there was more between us than there actually was, that we had just spent the day riding wooden train cars and screaming rebellious songs.
"Do what you want, fuck everything else!"
And when you finally woke up I tried to remember that we were the same, nothing had changed. Well if anything had changed it was me because I had this dream where we rode trains that we thought were too fragile to support us, but instead they slung us around with the strength and speed of 10,000 Amtrak trains.
10,000 Amtrak trains? What?
And then we sipped coffee. You sipped cause you like the way black coffee tastes and because you need it to wake you up and to stave off that headache you've got from the night before. I sipped cause I like the way black coffee tastes on my teeth later and because I just like to be with you when the sun comes through the blinded windows in slats; I have no headache.
After the sipping we sat on the front porch, soaking up the sun and letting all of our small talk say the things we could not.
"What time does your train leave?"
"6:30."
"Do you want to eat dinner before?"
"Sure. Let's make a feast."
"A feast, eh? That sounds good."
"Yeah, we can go shopping in a bit."
"Okay.........have you seen my jacket?"
"I think it is on the coffee table. I'll get it for you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I need a refill anyway."
OR
Don't leave. Just stay a little longer.
I have to, you know.
I know, but it is nice when you are around.
I cannot.
Why?
You know why.
What is it that we are doing?
How am I supposed to know. Does it matter?
I guess not.
I will see you when your cheeks are red from summer and when things will make less sense.
And so we waited around and cooked dinner and I ended up not going to the train station because I did not want you to see me cry. We are nothing and tears do not solidify that fact, they only make things seem more serious and who needs seriousness at a time like this?
We are nothing.