Author: Daniel Thompson
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Off the cutting-room floor: ‘5 Years Gone’
For every song of mine that people have heard, there are about 10 that no one but me knows ever existed. I imagine it’s about the same for every songwriter out there. You never want to tell everyone everything. You have to say just enough. Sometimes, it’s easy to make the choice to stop at…
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HURT people hurt PEOPLE
I want to tell you something sincere. I know we’ve cut all ties on your end, but I still have this one annoying string lingering around my neck that I need to clip before I’m able to freefall on mine. Whenever I looked at you, I saw what the fox saw in the Little Prince.…
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Self-Loathing after Midnight
I am the darkness that people with light inside themselves recoil from. I am the inoperable tumor counting down your days. I am chimera. I am leviathan. I am the Black Death. I am the popcorn kernel staring at the spot between your teeth waiting to make its move. I am the nightmare that wishes…
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‘I guess love’s the same for all of us’
There I was, drunk and on my way to a gay club. No, that wasn’t how I had originally planned my night, but the circumstances of the evening had necessitated such a trip. And I was along for the ride. The night started the same as any night I hung out with old college friends.…
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Sometimes
Sometimes I wonderIf I’m destined to dieA martyr to some causeOn a post-apocalyptic battlefield Or if I’m like the first DarrinOn Bewitched who apparentlySuffered back pain and that’s whyHe was eventually recast And I’ll never forgetHow he looked with that oxygen maskAround his face, a fragile old manYet staring at the camera with a smile…
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Eureka!
Let the author read it to you. I think I’ve got it this time. I finally know the answer: I’m in love with falling in love. But I don’t like BEING in love. Does that make sense? Eh, of course it doesn’t. Let me explain. Falling in love is like snorting pure Columbian cocaine off…
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Stars
The stars far off In the sky Never let you know When they die Their light reaches through time, Dead things that may still Shine on lives that someday will Stop on a dime Both leaving more beauty In their afterglow Than either impermanent object Will ever truly know
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‘Anything, but broken’
Listen to the author read it to you Do you ever think about us? The walking wounded The ones haunted by ghosts You cannot see The ones burning with passionate plea Every time they’ve spoken “Please, just let me be Anything, but broken” Seen through side-eyed glances And closing doors Shipwrecked creatures Sleeping along barren…