March 28th.

i have so much i can give
but there's only so much i can take
i get that feeling in my throat when i think of you
but it only gets tighter when i think of myself
and the footprints trailed along my back
go hand in hand with the intensity of my grip

please take me out of this state of mind
because i'm exhausted from being stuck at the border.

March 27

if i ruined it completely
be assured i didnt mean it
not that you would've cared
but i needed to comprehend it.

the transmitter has broken down
and my static-filled words have become delayed
and now you're cutting out, and it's just screeching now
so pictures on the film strips stored in my brain
will constantly be replayed

talk before i'm grinded into dust
or at least put your hand on my chest
and feel my syncopated breathing
because you're the only person i want to trust.

March 25th

all i am now is just naked teeth
with imprints on my fingers and lines on my face
please reassure me this is not just for show
please reassure me you won't stray away.
if you could confirm it my eyes would stop shifting
and if you could agree to it my brain might stop racing
please don't use it, please don't break it
it is no longer mine, don't let it stop beating.

march 16th

you throw out 'i love you's' like you throw out my letters
and it's coincidental that they both end up being recycled.
i wouldn't call it being angry, rather an apology for two
and i'm sorry i've wasted all of your time

your nonchalant attitude cuts like the diamonds
that i've drowned you in, now you're spitting up sparkles
and i'm drenched in the specks that flicker in your eyes
the pigments that are indescribable, completely remarkable.

we could say you've done nothing,
and from another perspective i guess you have not
but i'm overly sensitive to everything
like the words you weave to the things you've thought

i'm tired of talking down to you and myself
because i know i'm doing neither of us any favors.

march 13th

i erase everything i say because i know it will be used against me
and everything i say is too much, it's always too many
chances i give you, please take what's left
of my fragmented words, because i've tried my best.

your fingernails are curved and jagged
like the hair in your eyes
and the outline of the moon
i'll set my watch next time, until you say it's too soon
but i know you'll be late, and you know i can wait
but maybe next time you shouldn't write in pen.

so with every tarnished piece of jewelry
you've ever given to me
you can remember that you've worn me out.

march 9

i wish i could just wish to stay in my own shoes
instead of asking to switch seats with everybody in the room
because i liked what i thought you said much better than what you've actually said
and now i'm stuck with uncomfortable chairs
and shoes with too much room left to fill.

March 9th.

i wish i could just wish to stay in my own shoes
instead of asking to switch seats with everybody in the room
because i liked what i thought you said much better than what you've actually said
and now i'm stuck with uncomfortable chairs
and shoes with too much room left to fill.

March 5th

maybe next time we wont try to move backwards
we won't start with the brutality of all your attack words
but your hand in mine was such a pretty sight for sore eyes
and i probably wouldn't fix it if i tried.

i'd ask you to erase everything we've ever talked of
pop pins through the dreams i'd store in every comic bubble
but just because your colored outside the lines doesn't mean i'll go easy
and when you find out this is for you, could you please just go easy
and when i tell you it's not, could you pretend to believe me?

i'm infatuated with the periods that will end all my thoughts
and the commas that will link us, and everything i don't trust
apostrophes only show that i'm not the only one
but don't quote me on this because i'll deny it for too long.
exclamations build me up before you can even let me down
please question me.

March 4th

your split ends curl upwards,
like wallpaper when you enter a room
and underneath it is knotted
like the nest where you sleep
what will happen when the branch that's been holding you up
is too weak to support the load you lay down
we will fall together, from thirty thousand feet in the air
it shouldn't be this difficult
to move your teeth out of the way

please demolish every thought i've ever had of you

March 2nd, extended metaphor.

You are a complex, intricately written novel, filled with dog-eared pages and countless rips and tears. The words vomited across your sheets of parchment are simplistic and casual, playing on the feeling of reliability, although I can never be sure of your authenticity. Your insides are plastered with standard, emotionless script that is constantly begging me to read between the lines, while the whites of your pages hide anything of importance. The syntax and movement of your contents pace in time with the beating in my chest. Your firm, sharp, yet bendable spine is the exact opposite of the identity that admires you the most, and your hard cover protects an inadequate amount. If I would dare to pry past your attractive, distracting shield, your insides would pour outwards, resembling a volcanic eruption of punctuation drenched in black ink. The numbers positioned delicately at the bottom right corner of every page continuously tallies the amount of times you have said the inappropriate thing at the most unexpected of times. Your lack of articulation, and the uncreative vocabulary you have painted onto blank pages encircles eyes, giving the bookworm a false feeling of comfort and nostalgia. The anticipation of turning the page inserts unexplainable emotions and uncertainty into the bloodstream of your temporary guardian. While the frays that frame your main attraction force-feed me repeated information, something will always lure me into your carousel of reoccurring facts and fiction. The periods which you dot so carefully at the end of your narrative sentences resemble how easily you can stop your thoughts, and how easily you can block out the ones you do not want to let in. You perch yourself above others while loitering on the top of dusty bookshelves, and you force me to extend and contort just to graze your outer shell. Somehow you fit perfectly into the grooves of your impermanent owner’s palms, but it feels different when you edge into mine, no matter how tattered your leather, or how worn away your embossing is. Regardless of your condition and your imperfect, unreliable style of writing, you will always be my favorite novel.

february 26th

i dont even know where to begin or start
but all i want to do is tear you apart
but i can only hide behind anonymity
and drop nuclear bombs gradually
all i want to do is write down
everything you do that i can't take
or erase the strikes you've made me draw on these walls
because a clean slate
might be better than this

i can't handle when you talk so quiet
lay your head beside mine because i can't hear
and i'm drowning in inadequate metaphors
melting through locks, and what we've got interlocked.

maybe i could write you a letter
keeping it long so you'll never finish
and writing in cursive so you couldn't read it
maybe i could create the most beautiful picture
illustrating every time i had my fingers crossed
but i'll make sure to leave it out of the frame
in hopes it could give you a paper cut.

~~~

Feb. 24
the moonlight brings out the worst of me
but i love the bones in your wrists
and the veins in your hands.
but your clock says that i've spent too much time on this
all i've got left is to meet expected demands

and i could've sworn it wouldn't turn out like this
but if it was your word, you would've sworn by it
and i'll leave an open space, because i could always improve
and you'll leave fingerprints, because that's what you do.

minutes bring out the worst in you
but you love my shifting eyes
and my water bed back.
but that's why 'hello's' are easier than 'goodbye's'
and that's everything i've ever lacked.

I tried to write something you wouldn't expect
but the mold was just too easy to slip inside
and I tried to say something I wouldn't regret
but i could only come up with 'maybe's, or 'i lied'.
please hold my hands until my fingers go blue
and before you go you could still say you tried.

and i could've sworn it wouldn't turn out like this
but if it was your word, you would've sworn by it
and i'll leave an open space, because i could always improve
and you'll leave fingerprints, because that's what you do.

Shawn Harris.

"Other than literary sources, where do you find inspiration for your songs?"

Quote:

---

SHAWN SAYS: "Out the jam of a fourth-floor safety window, I'm singing lyrics from 'Gravity Rides Everything' by Modest Mouse and trying to trace their reasons for writing it. Heavy raindrops are rushing toward stones and grass, and up here I'm harmonizing, 'Everything will fall, fall right into place'. My perception of time starts to drag lazily; the fat drops slowing down, no hurry for a splash.
It took my little brain most of the damn song to conclude, 'Hey, it's snowing!' I was a raindrop and now I'm a piece of snow; different state- same constitution. Slow down- no rush for the ground. Gravity is the worry that rides everything, but the snowflakes have the right idea. I don't know if that's how Modest Mouse came up with their song, but it's how I've stumbled upon one of my own."

Before January 20th./08

let's talk for a minute, we'll sit on invisible chairs
i'll stutter through thoughts, and you can pretend that you hear
but it won't take place because i can't stand the thought
of you pulling at your collar, i know it's not what you want.
disconnect, i'll converse with the dial tone
a repeating reminder of what's left to depend on

trying to pass the time
we'll throw our syllables around
and just as thoughtful as you are
i'll wonder what has kept them down
and this density left in the air
if you were consumed entirely, i'd still doubt that you'd care

you're living in a game where you're unable to backtrack
yet you revolve how you act around backstabs and stab-backs
and for the record on regrets, it's a strike for a strike
but when you let go of your diagonal make sure you don't get hit

''take back what you sold'', you don't want it anymore
''talk a little more'', or until your mouth is dry
''come a little closer'' just so you can push me away?
check your watch one more, as if you did this every day