It Was Coming

I say I don't
But really I do

I say let's play
But really the game
means so much more
or so much less
than fun

And I pretend it's not
what you pretend it to be
I pretend it's no more
no hope that
we will see

And I lie to myself
then I cry myself to sleep
then 2AM it comes
and another appears
up ahead
and I know
because I don't
want
need
feel

That this must have been real

I wish it meant less
or more to you than me
I wish the shoe fit just like a glove
or a feeling like a bird sits in a tree
I wish I wouldn't fall to flights of fancy or freedom
But I know it's not random or nothing
I know it meant something

To me I know
It was coming.

You Must Go

with a pinata and a pedal with a little bit-a poetry,
a smile was returned to it's usual place
like a bat out of hell.

it takes years and years
it takes guts and tears
it takes a strong pull

It will only go as fast as it will go
but you must go
every day
you must go
for this to grow.

What happened to Psychology

Is it lost in a social marketing media world of life coaches and love coaches and dating coaches
Is it lost in gimmicks and self help dribble?

And what of private practice? Have I strayed too far from the local scene to try and reach an non reachable international market? A market that takes freely. And gives in only to the fame game.

And my party friends of yesterday what do we have in common anymore?
but the party
my day-to-day seems miles apart and miles away
we do different things by day
I realize I no longer need you to stay

What happened to psychology
is it a numbers game
how many subscribers you have
how many followers you have 
how many likes you have

what happened to good ole psychology
investing in your unconscious
following in the footsteps of Freud and Yalom
following the emotional holocaust
the 5 day analysis

Media killed Psychology
the death kiss of it's day
Media took away all the insight
and left us with all it's pain

I Choose Voices

Workaholic and selfish
I don't have time for relationships
a slew of fair weathered friendships
a ton of late night parties
Then I disappear

So many options
I can't be everything to everyone
Nor something to just one
Unless I am someone to me
Center of my own universe

I work hard and I play hard
and in between I sleep

I choose my patients over my friends
I choose my patience over my friends
Until the weekend
I choose my voice then

Callous and cold
I say yes then I say no
but part of me feels like
you had your chance
and now it's my turn.

We all choose
In the end
yes we do

I don't regret my choices
do you?
I don't regret my voices,
either.

It's painful but I do, choose my guitar over you.

The Same Conversations

She went back in Los Angeles

sitting around the living room

everyone was still having the same conversations

saying the same old thing

talking about the same things

over and over again

nothing has changed

She was back in London

It's good to see all my old friends

and have some tea with you again

But you're all still ill

having the same conversations

saying the same things over and over

Nothing has changed

I see your face

You're still going to the same parties

Still going to the same parties

In your red party dress

Nothing stays the same

but nothing has really changed

I now seem some more lines on your face

I now seem some more age and maybe grace

I now see you falling from disgrace

unless you change the pace

the story never changes

and we are all the same

And I'm glad I'm not an actress

I guess I'm glad I'm not an actress

For, who places these words on the city scape

Who is the one trying so hard to please

trying so hard to fit in

Who is the one trying to hide ?

Where is this space so-called safe?

The Wrong Continent

You're so self obsessed it's infuriating
he once said
and little did I know
my friend would beat up your friend
I said
and she says, not my friend
but I met her at your party
I say

the bastard friend
of us bastard children
looking for our mums
looking for a friend

dadless children
walking around
naked
in an unattractive light
with bruises all around

aggression
your blue black eyes
I almost checked myself into
the chateau
the monastery
the chateau du monastery

children of divorce
provencial
she's not French I told the Austrian
and we surmised
the American boys are
all afraid of commitment

thus
we're on the wrong continent.
Intensely wrong.

Friend or Fool?

I have walked alone
I have cried many fears
I have suffered the company of zeros
been torn down by yellow jackets
sworn to tears by scorpions
scratched at and daggers by monkeys and dragons

You can apologize you feel bad for being honest
I am not afraid of the truth
It doesn't mean I will like you
When you can't see the beauty in what is

You can walk away with your tail between your legs
because I stand up for myself
You can try to turn the tables
for your actions

I will gladly walk alone
Today
I will gladly go it alone
my way

I will appreciate your honesty
I will always respect you this
Doesn't mean we have to be friends

Does not mean, we have to be friends
what are friends anyway?
I have many and I have none

In the end, what are they anyway?
A friend or a fool
is it not one in the same?