(0374) empty chairs

i take the bad and form it into some good.
i used to assume my life had been overlooked.
my ceiling is never higher than what i need,
and i stand inside a haze of disillusioned dreams.
leave it to silence to ask us why
we never feel anything because we never have the time.
i feel my veins starting to fill up with blood,
but there's nothing left. it's just a rationing of luck.
you hold the flash cards as i try to remember
where we were eight years ago on this day in december.
we wait for summer to hydrate our brains
with what's been lost in the freezing, winter rain.
i need to carry over all that feeling
that i used to have when we were just barely breathing.
what doesn't bloom eventually comes back later
as i dream of empty chairs and blank pages of paper.
i loved his sister in the way i loved music.
with passion oozing from my pretentious confusion.

a circle doesn't need to finish where it starts.
it goes round and round while forcing our plans to come apart.
and that's a good thing once you realize you're dead.
a bullet i've seen many times inside my own head.
---
this is all i need - an everchanging picture that represents my past.
it's been too long, and it's gone by all too fast.