It’s so easy
          to feel isolated
                    in this World.

When I get
          in that place
                    of loneliness

I listen to a record
           from my father’s old collection
                    from college.

                                                       ­                                               And I here them
                                                          ­                        I can feel them
                                                            ­                  gathered around

                                                         ­                                              With their beers
                                                           ­                             talking of hot girls
                                                           ­            with big, bouncy curls

                                                          ­                                        And for a moment
                                                          ­                           just a small moment
                                                          ­                I don’t feel so lonely.

I want to go to a record store with you
we can spend the little money we have left
on The Smiths, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd
for an hour or two we can be angsty teens in the 80s
who drink cheap beer and steal our parents cars
lets pretend were running away
from home, from school, from everything we know
I wanna lay on the floor of your apartment
put a record on the turntable and hear that sweet crackle
we'll listen to what we've bought
and pretend we're watching the stars through the ceiling
they'll dance to the beat like a laser show in our eyes
while mind blowing guitar riffs and drum beats fill our spirits

-kk

you never told me you needed me
just lists of other things deserving your attention.
your dreams were what was most important to you
and i can't say i blame you.

people are fault ridden creatures
after all.

i don't get lonely anymore.
the stench of coffee
and the staggered breath
of the same old records
keeps me.

my only frustration is that the music was too short
the dreams too painful
the quiet too loud.

the space between tracks is where i live
that repeating abyss you can't ignore
as you await the next song
hoping it will take you from this place.

it's odd how we never think anything of the silence
until it blankets us
and is the only thing left to talk about.