In and out and around again.
One more time around the sun we go.
Sullen with a stroke.
The words mean nothing to you
but matter to me.

Free as a bird, I fly free.
This world has grown mean.

Everyone on their own plane.
Make friends with ghosts, they’ll stay
With you at night
and until the summer ends.

Pull my teeth and cut me deep.
Bird flying solo, a nest of worms
to feed on my own.

Your dream or mine?
Could we share a verse and a chorus?
Could we share an artful line?

Desolate in the overgrowth,
you have nothing that I want, I try so hard
but can’t seem to pick your stones.
I shake you away no matter how hard I try.
Somewhere in the overgrowth is an understanding.

Birthday Boy, don’t act like you care.
Don’t show them your fear.
Its a world where some people
are in bands and gangs and teams and are loved.

Its ok to share the air
because we all will one day disappear.
But for now, advice to you?

Your scars are healing.
Your black and blues are better.
It doesn’t matter what they do.
Let them go on with their day.
You have more to create.

And some will join along the way.
But the adventure of life
is a solitary game in elevators,
coffee shops and jail cells.

But hold on to the ones who love you.
And enjoy the loneliness
’cause no one will ever really get you.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.