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Hand through my hair surprised me,
my old habit was denied me,
they're smooth and they're terrifying,
they're big and they're beautifying.

Ruminating, cloven pacing, why should i, have to be the one,
who bears the brunt.
Juniper there is no cure, this crown is mine, i'm entwined with this,
uprooted mind.

Sprouts from my brain, watered by rain, towards the sky from my mind i will own my own pain,
leading towards heaven, away from this place,
there's no going back from this forresting lace.

Mirrors never told me the truth,
just lied and pushed me right out of view,
i tried to bind them back with bandage,
stop myself from doing some damage.

Branching breathing, constant weeding,
now my crown, cuts me to the quick. In the thick of it.
careless thinking, too much drinking,
tried to stop, them just please slow down,
just please slow down.


My mind tends to make itself up,
up and up and up and up.
the bird's singing over me now, make their houses in my boughs,
Slowly learning, candle burning,
waxing and, waning hand in hand, trying to understand.
separating, still migrating,
why should i, try and stop this mess, perhaps it's progress.


from Loose Lips, Sunk Ships, Bruised Hips, and Booze Sips, released September 19, 2015
Written by Ben Balmer (BMI) and Vivienne Wilder



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Ben Balmer Austin, Texas

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