Est. 1997

There are a few things you need to know.

I need you to know that I loved you from every angle,

not just the rearview mirror.

When the lights went out and inspiration sank,

to lie down in the backseat, it was my best possible bed. 

But you and I were two wheels rolling in opposite directions.

The results were skid marks on my heart.

When Frances Senska was asked for an artist statement,

she wrote, “I make pots.”

Because is life ever as complicated as a sentence?

Now the year is over and we are the

semi truck with the word ‘diamond’ plastered on the side,

because even though we don’t look like much,

we’ve got some sort of value to offer the world.

And the truth is,

I don’t want to wake up some mornings.

Then again, maybe I do because

dreams seem to be better when they end.

We really can’t delude ourselves any further

Because soon, the way that you packed up your notes

will be a formula for how to pick up the pieces

And the hallways an algorithm 

that taught you how to dodge. 

Life after this is singing and not knowing the words,

so when you pull off the formalities and clothe

the impossibilities, there really is no truer way

Of telling you my artist statement then saying

“I’m here, aren’t I?” 

There is no better way to say goodbye

to these past few years then by leaving,

because moving on always proves a point.

So, what do you say?

Let’s define human nature

and fake our deaths at least once

 in the next twenty years.

Let’s prove em’ all wrong

by throwing our hearts into the wind

and hoping that they’ll catch. 

Let’s show the world

that although our wrongs were substantial

compared to our rights,

WE need you to know

That mistakes are for learning,

And isn’t that what graduating is for?