Beyond Lines: Lifeline

By

 Literature) 

Lonely Nights (Florilegium) is the first album I wrote with a complete thirteen song set. These songs were, at a time, my lifeline. I consider this album to be my most vulnerable even still. No aesthetic comes close to the lonesome warrior I embodied writing Lonely Nights, particularly the song Lifeline.

Lifeline:

A good life has some bad days.

Be patient and things will change.

So I wait.

I'm so fucking desperate,

patience is pointless.


Every day feels the same;

I go through the same motions,

I make the same mistakes.

It's the same heartbreak.


I hate feeling like I'm

replaceable in everyone's life. 

I hate that I waste my time 

on lonely nights with no lifeline. 


I meet someone, get my hopes up.

He says he wants me but it doesn't mean much

coming from a guy that's just looking for fun.


I want real love

as gentle as moonlight.

Pure like the sunrise,

a breath of fresh air.


Tell me you care, if you cared, you'd stay.

Take your supply then push me away.

Use me for pleasure and forget my name.


I hate feeling like I'm

replaceable in everyone's life. 

I hate that I waste my time 

on lonely nights with no lifeline. 


Foretoken)

I once said my loneliness was antecedent. Since I finished school when I was 16, just after being exiled from my church, I truly felt alone. I knew this season would last many moons. Part of me thought it would last forever. I resisted interaction like it was a strong current, fighting against the very connection I craved. Maybe it was fear of loss that kept me secluded from joy. If I never established relationships, then what did I have to lose? Internally, I knew all I had left was myself. I was betrayed by my entire community, my friends, and the people I once called my family. There was no shoulder suitable of my tears, no hand fit to hold mine. And so I became my own comfort. 


Forsaken) 

I was left, left to the mercy of myself. Consequent to being outed and defamed by what I thought to be a community, I tore apart all that was left of me, dissected my worth to identify the pestilence that made me detestable. No one knew, or maybe they did and just didn't care. If I was seen, I was overlooked. If I was looked at, I was unseen. 


Forgotten) 

Friendship became an echo. Routine became my fortitude. Time always moved on, but I never did. I made a home of the pain and became acquainted with avoidance. The decay of my color was seemingly celebrated until my pigmentation was forgotten by all. I was but a telltale, a name only mentioned beside a campfire. Even then, I felt most like an ember, seen until I'm not. Alive for a moment, gone in an instant. 


Finality) 

It was never about putting down a diseased sheep to protect the flock. It was about slitting an artery too vital to the body, lest the body breathe. Eventually I learned that I must be censured for tradition to be followed. Jeremiah and Elijah said the life of a prophet was lonely, and they were right. Only I'm no prophet. Just a man that dared to be himself.  

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