in my long drive home i have time to my thoughts, where the silence sits in the passenger seat. the noise that makes it's home in this cabin takes a backseat to the repose i get now. this is the place where my soul meets my body. where reading the signs points to all things leading to something more significant than what has already been done. my co-pilot and his presence gives the time to see what would normally escape me. and you are my stop loss. the signs become something different. what would have been encouragement becomes burdening. you make the silence scream until it couldn't be any more of a deafening cry. once in the drive my thoughts were in order, they had rhyme and reason. i could see the goal of my hapless days leading from one to the next. my weakness' are apparent, my shortcomings and shown. the space i had was full of the emptyness and surrounded me like a warm blanket. i was somewhere between asleep and awake where the unusual become habit and my mind is free to scamper about it's playground like a child on recess. and you are my stop loss. my thoughts begin to drudge around as if they're dragged down by clothes soaked in the rain. seeing myself happy isn't so real anymore. it escapes me and then taunts me from a distance, just beyond the headlights, always just out of sight and never out of the light. i can't make out what i'm looking at, by this time i don't even know what i'm looking for. i've become lost in the pattern of my days. i can't remember where the road leads to or where i'm going. and at this point the randomness and chaotic thoughts comfort me. it reminds me that i'm free to be and enabled to go. thoughts of what i had always wanted bring memories of the future. memories that i'm yet to form that will one day become deja vu. memories that i will look back on and think 'this is what i was talking about, this is what i want,' and i'll know that it was you in there.
and you are my beloved stop loss.
damien rice- amie
breaking benjamin- forget it
waking ashland- edinger
copeland- grey man
counting crows- miami
mayday parade- you be the anchor that keeps my feet on the ground, i'll be the wings that keeps your heart in the clouds
bright eyes- i'm wide awake, it's morning
new amsterdams- has anyone seen my wings?
