eight 6 two three/ tickets

Fingers lie stretched out

Pointing their prints toward the sky

Wandering through the halls of a mind

Stuck trying to find

A place I can stay for a while


Miles, I drive

To catch a feeling I can’t describe


These sidewalks no longer know my prints

There is no sign or remain

Of a palm so small

The shape I can’t recreate


Scars on my forehead

Increase over time

Once from a simple time

And now from an surreal high


These days don’t end

They don’t just fade overnight

These pictures will remind 

Of all the times we felt alive


Unfamiliar with these threads

Unfamiliar with this sky


Goosebumps on my skin

Without a touch 

Without a 


Entranced by the sight

Curls covering brown eyes

Cherry Bomb, track ten

Echoes through my mind


So I drive, I drive

Til the sun is no longer in sight

And the sweat from my back

Has dried with the night


I ride, I ride

Til the music makes me cry

And the melody in those speakers

Takes me to a different part of life


We fear the thoughts we have

In the middle of the night

When everything is hazy

And I have to catch a flight


But what if it’s real?

What if nothing is a lie?

So take this ticket

I guess I’ll figure it out sometime


But not tonight.


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