Sunday, June 6, 2010

The last email my father sent me before I came back to Pensacola said simply "sacrifice your blues." This was the first contact I'd had with him for more than a month. He and I never talk on the phone. We both prefer other static sounds to that of the telephone wire, I think.

"Sacrifice your blues"

I've been thinking about the blues a lot lately and I don't think I'm quite ready to sacrifice mine. I'd rather keep on singin' 'em.

wrote this one for a very dear friend:

yr honest ghost

EDIT EDIT (Lyrics- because Patrick asked me to post them <3 )

breathe through your bones
- rattle and blister
you were a wind chime
the breeze was beating
bellow the belt of a whisper
sigh too deeply darling
- throw me down

I thought it was love
I thought it was
(thought it was)

loneliness makes me feel so holy
you were a saint
when no one else was around
I was just some kind of lust or longing
your absent eyes dried up in the light
like dust in the dawning
but you are never quite so honest
as your ghost is in the morning

let go the grasp of your hands
so that you can't hold onto anything
see your own body brace you
when you can barely stand
(when you can barely stand it)

your other body was a lover
left it in the place where paint is peeling
propped up on a pillow
with its gaze silky on the ceiling
sight weaving the softest skin in tangles

I thought it was
(thought it was) love
I thought it was love

somehow it fills you much more deeply
when you hear the hounds howling
with each beat and pounding
I thought it was (thought it was) love

blood and branches are not leashes
tying veins to path and pattern
but out of fear of losing
the game of leaving
I never left the maps I made
of pulse and pleading
forgot they weren't a metaphor
for much except retreating

I thought it was
(thought it was) love
thought it was love
true love