12​.​1​.​18

by Juniper Ginger

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1.
you remind me of a house in the woods where sun shines onto the concrete stoop and neighbor kids laugh as we light up in your room you remind me of that candle smell laundry detergent, other things i cannot place running from wasps with that look on your face do you remember the winter that read like a novel? it was just four weeks long when i count it out whiskey slurped over the sink and my poor cotton mouth do you remember when i drove her home? carving ice off the sand smothered road i make that same drive to work but something's not working here now cause i kept my mouth shut when the substance got too thick to swallow you remind me of who i was then: somewhat lighter, but i learned to fill myself in. i painted the walls i ran three miles a day i drank your voice down and still couldn't escape throwing rocks at your windows i guess i'm the foolish one now maybe i'll pick my battles much better the next time around
2.
i'm not feeling any safer these days since they handed us a western lie inside a global fate i keep mine hidden in my coat buried in a foot of snow today, there's nowhere for my neighbor's truck to go they say "a climate change is gonna come" they say "just take that payout kid, and run, run, run, we recommend you buy yourself a different life leave the death, leave the danger all behind" but all i buy is bread milk and eggs at the store (not the one we can't go to anymore) so many evenings spent staring down a stranger's face for any meaning that could shake me from this self-indulgent phase still, i just took the compliments as they came stacked them up against the silence of your gaze see, everyone here has the same dreams so everyone here does the same things and everyone fear what they can't see but all that i see is twice as terrifying are you terrified yet? all i buy is bread milk and eggs at the store (not the one we can't go to anymore)
3.
Citybound 04:46
wake to face the truth of what i've done take a slow breath and follow it through with another one pull myself out of bed and fall back in for better or worse time to face today's problems in yesterday's shirt tina pours my drinks till i'm puffing out getting taller with every one i throw down pressing fists to my chest like i've got something figured out drop you off at your place and drive myself around for three days and nights with a fear i can't face of a beautiful life in an imperfect space i might be citybound, but i'll sure miss this place in my dreams last night you met me in the apartment where i learned you could not commit so i tossed and i turned till i woke on the living room floor i said don't you follow me here, you can't use me no more so every night in the back of my car i'm peeling the labels off and spilling the jars keep that shit for yourself, i don't care where you are
4.
Harpswell 03:47
it's the end of the world as we know it i still think high enough of me to call myself an artist and all the people that we know still drag their feet down city streets that never seem to show all the cracks in the foundations of the deals they've been making with themselves saying "i'll try to be good" but in this town, on this night, who really could? we're smoking 27s right outside some shady bar where the bouncer knows your name and hasn't asked to see your card since he recognized you from back in high school when you were both from someplace else but here you are it's the end of my life as i've built it back to harpswell, not too drunk to drive, but just enough to prove that i am not the person you should want the grace that you possess is something i can only dream of so if you can promise to be good i said if you can just promise to be good if you can just promise to be good i'll promise not to say those things that i rather would we're smoking 27s on the walk back to your car and i see you staring through me but i'm standing right in front of you i don't care who strikes first i don't care who's got it worse i'm still standing (barely conscious, but i'm standing) though the cracks in my foundations start to show say, when it rains, will i have someplace to go?
5.
i'm jolted from a bad dream of newspapers and tv screens the shadows paint my eyes shut the sun illuminates the scene i put on my jacket and my shoes to keep my fury on the move i'm setting fire to the cities in my mind to spread the sentiment that they're not worth my effort or my time i'll canvass every neighborhood divert the funds to war whittle memories down to profits and keep the winnings from the poor parts of my mind don't let her slip away because the future just won't wait throw half my things away i'm feeling richer all the same she says, "you've got your thinking face put on, tell me what's really going on" i said there's cities burnt to ruins in my mind a growing chasm where the future and the things i've left behind all get swallowed by the distance so i'm never really sure if the faces i forgot are worth the ones i've made room for in my mind i fell into a dream safe from noise and tv screens for everything i've run from i know i won't let this one get away from me i've made a home from all the rubble in my mind inside the foaming mouth of anger done my best to be alright and those i left behind i'll keep a little closer now so when i look back, maybe i'll be proud well i hope you're proud
6.
Sleep Now 04:26
line's down for now, the ocean sings homebound but he's got a couple things to make the day less loud now sleep now, sleep, now still dark as she ventures out alone the shadows cast and write the dawn no rules to wrap her pithy prose in skin no sight but sky wrapped in orange glow as the sea laps onto the shore no sound but salt, so now she knows he can't win because there's no invisible hand to right the switch there's no easy excuse for our loneliness we give our friends the gift of what we'd do for ourselves if we could only be somebody else so sleep now, sleep, now

about

recorded one chilly afternoon in the studio of Hannah E. Bevens -->
www.hausofhannah.com

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released December 1, 2018

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Juniper Ginger Portland, Maine

Juniper Ginger is the solo project of Portland, Maine songwriter Alex Millan. Her songs are mostly honest stories about the people and places she encounters. When heard live, sparse accompaniment invites listeners to get lost in the poetry.

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