Where Did You Come From?

"When are you gonna get the nerve and walk up and talk to me?" she said angrily as I looked up from the table and saw she'd appeared in front of me. Tall for her height. Porcelain-type face, long black hair that knew where to stay. Somewhat anomalous -- I've been sitting here all year, she's only made the space at that table hers in the last few days.

Oh, she never said this by the way. Just a daydream on a warm day my mind feigned.

Ergo Therefore Redundant

Our tables are ordinary, four legs and a top,
But it's the conversations that are not. I swear they're the reason that I can't stand small talk.
And Mom, she always has time for her anecdotes, 'cause she knows if she don't we won't.
With Daddy I always wonder what could make a man so stoic
And I can't imagine what's up there in his head so stowed.
"Don't rock the boat baby."
My brothers and me, we're spitting images of their flaws.
Communication lacking, disguised as mistakes.
And it makes me sad 'cause they haven't figured any better.
"That's just the way it is" (that's just the way it shouldn't)
and there's no changing the way their worlds spin.
"Don't tip the boat baby."
Part stubborn and part rug burn, none of us know when to quit.
'Cause we all like to swear we know what the stingy tossing of each other will mean, has meant.
If I can tell you anything, I can tell you this --
We were decorated veterans in familial transgression before even the age of enlistment.
And I ain't never met a group of soldiers that felt so old or wanted out so bad so early but would die before they say it.
I write you to say it's not too late.

Of, In, and Parllel To

I picture lots of white paneling surrounded by rich mahoganies that don't run too deep and keep the black leather furniture on a comfortable leash. A fire crackling with flames real big as snow falls down like feathers from the prettiest bird you could ever see, and an affection for the city I didn't know I had in me. It's the dead of winter, and I'd see nothing but the view from the eighth floor, wouldn't care to know what's in store or question if anything had sold out. Leave it all about some time whose hour's sound hit forever ago. I'd notice how people still manage to move, reluctant as they may be, but in motion undeniably; yes, it's necessary. I wouldn't need a place to go. You could come.

One day, you'll have everything you want. I promise.

"Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life"

I got a back pocket where I keep the ghosts,
the ones who tell me coulda when and shouda how.
They make sure to spot the coast
with all the faith that isn't now.
They try and tell me how I felt good,
but they don't got a clue what good is.
I tell you I will show them,
if only I get the chance.
I swear history need an editor like I need regrets.

And I swear, too, I said goodbye so many times,
But they keep swearin' 'bout unfiinished business
as if it's more than just a line.
So I tell them not to worry, no one will hold it against them if they skip it.
But they tell me they will show me, if only they get the chance,
that my one day will come.
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of my life.
And I tell you that part ain't nowhere near my plans,
'cause one day I'll have won.