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[calidelight]

Palms for Evergreens

I’m driving North today, not sure why I stuck around so long.

Through cliffside roads I sway, I’ve no clue what’s going on.

But no I couldn’t stay, in the city I’d thought I loved.

-

I roll my windows back, to let the sea breeze tear at me.

My life needs a track, first the winds must set me free.

The more I think of that, what does purpose even mean?

-

I’m leaving California, giving palms for evergreens.

My parents were raised here, by sick men on Hennessy.

They ran to San Diego, but some things they couldn’t leave.

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How could I run from you, when from this you pulled me?

You make me feel so blue, but you’re just coping with your tree.

I need to grow too, I take no pleasure in having to flee.

-

Here is a place to stay, the first land that I had known.

Instead I am a stray, searching for what I’d let go.

The night fades away, casting Puget in a new day’s glow.

[calidelight]

Uprooted

In a panicked escape, North I careen, trading these palm trees for evergreens.

I drive up the coast, twisting through moonlit roads. One false turn and I’ll fall to a beach of stones.

Maybe I’ll stop- sit over these rocks. And I’ll think of all that I’m still not.

Under the moon I allow pieces of me to be lashed away by a cool sea breeze.

Towards I go to the city of gold, a land marked by culture packed into a cove.

Here I’ll cry, for I’ve just began to untie a knot of lands fresh to my eyes.

Racing through Oregon- family roots in pursuit, avoiding all that I’ve felt forced to make true.

If I should stop by mom and pop, I’d have to pick it all right back up.

Instead I drive praying they don’t cry and understand I just can’t be what I’m not.

Now I enter a land I’ve almost forgot to search for whatever my heart has hopefully lost.

Onwards I go, to the purple shadows coating the banks of Puget in a new day’s glow.

[calidelight]

Special

Here I pace down an empty street

with nothing but the moon’s gaze at my feet

vacant homes lining the cold concrete.

No, I am nothing special.

Lately my mind has been so askew

I’ve beaten my own head to black and blue

ask a friend ‘cause I really a clue.

Hoping that it’s nothing special.

Sometimes I feel my mind is distinct

as if my thoughts are thing one doesn’t think

my own friends can feel so harsh and bleak.

Wishing I wasn’t special.

Lately my thought has been to ask you

how is it you do what you do

living with your heart true.

My words always seem to fall through.

Someday our minds come to eclipse

and our true hearts come out in bliss

I see we both are just pulling through.

Know I am nothing special.

[calidelight]

Untitled

Golden rays bloom across the beach over the boardwalk.

Cali skies, but they ain’t enough to keep me warm.

Pink shades appear greyed without my girl.

Where did my mermaid go?

I told her I’m trying to glow.

One day I may have my own show.

Why’d you run?, I’m crying to know.

I call from palms; what’s wrong with Santa Monica shores?

I know that you don’t travel around.

But without you I’m starting to drown.

So join me in this coastal town.

Ocean gaze with my peach who seems so far away.

Her coffee eye gaze freezes the beach in icy parade.

So afraid, cherishing a bay that has my my pearl.

Can’t you stay, enjoy the sea spray and LA whirl?

My dear, my hearts with the meadow-

a place we’ve both known you’d outgrow,

a place where I must go to plateau.

a place you need run from solo.

[calidelight]

Sorrowed eyes staring down the sun on Salona shores,

California skies, but they ain’t enough to keep me warm,

Palm trees, hot thighs, but my heart is still in such a bore,

You see, my warmth lies in a little condo off the 54,

Last week I discovered that she’s infact a fucking whore,

So here I drown my sorrow in little French boutique store,

I’d stop by Paris, but LA distracts my heart evermore,

Singapore- beach offshore- vacation off to Ecuador,

All this and still my heart won’t cease to yearn,

[calidelight]

[calidelight]

My rose trapped in this tomb is quite meek,

Existence elsewhere feeling so bleak.

Ambitons, but my plans are crossable.

I’ve been brainstorming for weeks-

My plans wrapped in fame and mystique,

Of luxerious New York botiques,

Far off beachside blooming retreats.

It all feels impossible.

The more attainable- are irregardable.

Remembrance beyond casket- improbable.

I want to be appreciated. To be seen.

There’s no doing that from Santee,

but really it’s just me.

Partially because all I hear is critique.

So, here I go becoming a freak,

In an attempt to not be so weak

For now, this rose is just a leek.