This is war, All my travels are such an unsure thing. Will I last, Like my father did? Will I make him Proud. Who are you, To decide my fate? such a great mistake. I'm stuck inside this sleep deprived head of mine, Never knowing what the future holds, My whole world behind for good. But, I could find words to say for months, And I won't be able to let it out all like you did. You're well-worded and articulate. I am nothing. I'm okay with that if you don't mind my blur of speech, I seek to say things, but I stutter and murmur. Word-for-word "I'd lose sleep, stay awake and seek your words of Comfort. You're a dream." Charcoal grays and your red hair, Eyes that whisper, seek and stare. I exist. I am nothing. I am nothingness. (Inhale, exhale, inhale)

I am the stitching in your sweatshirt. I am worn out and washed up. I don't fit you, I just don't fit. I am the cheaper fabric. I'm out of fashion. It's just not my season. You'll forget me, but I can't forget you. Drowning out the substances, While hunting for sustenance. What is this? And what is left? Shell shocked, now I'm bereft From this past depressive theft. This is for the best. We are both content. Forget the continental contest of sadness. This is for the best. What's the value in being valued? What's the value of other's opinions? What's the value in your appearance? What's your worth? I am the stitching in your sweatshirt. I am worn out and washed up. I don't fit you, I just don't fit. I am the cheaper fabric. I'm out of fashion. It's just not my season. You'll forget me, but I can't forget you.

we're both stuck in this black hole. hoping to get out, but never knowing how. let's move up, let's move out; get away, let the sound take us. singing, painting soundscapes, landscapes that create a trip away, an escape. the Mayan calendar let us down many times before. go away for days and days I'm sore from soaring month to month. my love, let's run. we stay strong; an unflattering levy. I wish I were a Hawthorne. so I couldn't flee from this state. awfully made state of disgrace, this place of dismay. now all I am is displaced. the Mayan calendar let us down many times before. go away for days and days I'm sore from soaring month to month. my love, let's run. I'm learning to look inside myself. I haven't been feeling like myself. you always said "love yourself in good health." this is something I've never felt, these feelings are ones I've never been dealt. I've learned to look inside myself.

November 23rd 1942, anxious, the ship is nigh, and my mother sheds tears as we reach the docks. I watch my dame Rose as she hums in the back seat, I will miss her most. I see the gangway to my new home, a warship. It is time to say goodbye, mother gives her second son to this war. She tells me I look a lot like my brother, same haircut and uniform just 4 months earlier. I did not want to let go of rose. She gives me a letter, tells me to read it later. I tighten my Belleville boots, gather my seabag and stagger up to the ship. Goodbye mother, Goodbye Rose. It's been one month and Walter and I share the same bunk. There was supper at 1800 hours, I prepared each dish a little different just to cure the boredom. I was hoping I didn't have to bubble dance tonight. I yearn for a more serious occupation. Walter and I have a conversation about past relationships, and persuades me to open the letter. Dear James, by the time you read this letter I'll be checking into hospital beds. Your face, with the smile lines that you'll give em', I can not wait till June begins. February 14th 1943, if it's a boy, I like the name Aaron. I get a at least one sugar report a month from Rose, and I write thinking of the plans we could have done together today. mail doesn't come often when you're out at sea. I haven't set foot on land since we left we had church services , a fellow seaman had accidentally electrocuted himself, you just never know… Blankets and a crash for breakfast this morning, that’s as bout as good as it gets. April 18th. Our fleet came across a raft with some unfriendly's in it. When a destroyer came close they opened up fire with a devils piano. What happened next just haunts me. June 5th 1943. I hear captain’s voice over the loudspeaker. I am a father. I am relieved, happy, and my blood pumps backward. I am called up to the office for further details. Walter and I celebrate tonight It’s been one month since Robert Aaron Davis was born, and I finally received a letter from Rose from another ship. Dear James by the time you read this letter, I’ll have checked into a hospital bed. His face and the eyes that you gave him, I can not wait till you're home again. October 19, 1943. We reached port in Sidney Australia. it’s been almost one year since I’ve walked on land. and the women here are beautiful, none of them girls compare to Rose though. I had to get back to ship earlier than most of the fellows. I hate being the ships cook, I wish I would have trained to be a gunner’s mate or even a sonarman like my brother. It’s Robert’s first birth day today, I wish I could be there. I received a letter from Rose last week. I’ve saved it till now. Dear James, by the time you read this letter I’ll have checked into a hospital bed. They say, it’s more than likely cancer, I can not wait till your home again. I’m Scared, but I found an honest answer. I will not stay in this hospital bed.

Creaking floor boards as I try to keep my feet light. Lighting, thunder, help cover the sound. I pause past the kitchen, realizing I left notes across the living room floor. Just me and your 4 plus year old words. On January 23th you wrote "You'll never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory." You're no ordinary memory you're my entirety. The life to my living room. Scattering thoughts across the floor to think you're still among me, among us, among everything we are made of, like stardust. All made of the same matter no matter where we are on the time line. And I pause for a moment and realize, It's been 4 plus years since I've cleaned my living room floor. You're no ordinary memory you're my entirety. The life to my living room. (Tell me you'll be back again because I haven't felt the same since you left) "You'll never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory." Just me and your four plus year old words (Tell me you'll be back again because I haven't felt the same since you left)