You Didn’t Know (Birds).
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2010/02/22
I never thought of the end
Or even the beginning
Some people just fall into your life
And you’re never grateful that they never leaveYou didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we loved you
You didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we needed youWe didn’t mean to forget
We just didn’t know how to say
All the words you were never afraid of
All the words we’re thinkin’ todayYou didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we loved you
You didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we needed youAnd now our hearts
They’re breakin’
And now, my God,
You’ve been taken
You didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we loved you
You didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we needed youYou didn’t know I loved you, no, no
You’ll never know I needed you
You didn’t know I loved you, no, no
You’ll never know I needed youYou didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we loved you
You didn’t know, no
You didn’t know we needed you
This is definitely dedicated to someone. My family moved to Tyrone, Georgia from St. James, New York when I was ten years old. My family had an entire life back there, family, friends, and when we got here, we were all alone. When we met the Conger family, we learned their names through the Tyrone Softball Association. My dad and Lori coached together for my sister and Lori’s daughter, Kelsey. Katherine, Woody’s daughter, and I were close in age as well. Lori and Daddy became close, then my father and Woody and my mother and Lori, Kelsey and my sister, Katherine and I. Throughout the years we all became a sort of tight knit family. Katherine and I never talked every day, but still we say we’re soul sisters, and we share each other’s black sheep nuances. My dad, when he started his business, started it in a building office of Woody’s and Lori’s business. My parents and the Congers spent almost every day together. Lori and my father went through cancer together. We became family.
Lori passed away June 30th, 2009. This woman was a saint, an angel, and a mother to me. She always held her head high, no matter the rain pouring upon her, and every time I saw her, she could bring a smile to my face. “Kimberly, you are so beautiful, and I am so proud of you,” were the last things she said to me, holding a Coors Light can in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. I still don’t know how we lost our Lori, but her death brought us all back together, and made this small town throw down every grudge in order to come together for her. It was beautifully sad.
I miss Lori more than I could ever explain to someone. I still don’t feel like it’s real, but this was my attempt to accept her death into my soul and feel it’s loss, and damn, it hurts. Lori, if you’re up there, and you can feel this, know that I loved you more than anything. We all loved her more than she ever knew. Her insecurities were so trivial, and what she felt were flaws, made her beautiful. All of the sorry’s and niceties and OCD cleaning habits made that woman one of the best people I’ve ever known. I just wish she had seen it too.
I Can’t Help Missing You.
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2010/02/22
I can’t help missin’ you
Sometimes I feel so weak
And maybe it’s five am
But I haven’t got much sleepYou’re probably drinkin’ coffee while I’m dwelling on the blues
But baby sometimes I just can’t help reliving youYou are that stuttering
In a car that just won’t start
You are the swollen scars
On my empty heartAnd my phone just sits there silent and I just want to make that call
Damn, these feelings just don’t make any sense at allYou don’t mean anything
More than a boy who wasted time
Sometimes I just want to scream
‘Bout the way you haunt my mindYou’re probably strumming your guitar to a girl fallin’ for you
But baby sometimes I just can’t help wanting youDon’t you just want to break?
Just fall for me?
I’ve been so damn patient
With the secrets you keep
I watch your eyes, I hold your name
Baby, I just can’t help missin’ youI can’t help missin’ you
Yeah, I feel so lonely now
Living in faded pasts
Don’t make sense anyhowYou won’t miss me and I know you won’t call
Missin’ you don’t make any damn sense at allBut I can’t help missin’ you.
So my roommate read this and asked me who it was about. She said that at first she couldn’t read it because she knew it was going to be sad, but in the end, she just wanted to know who the damn thing was about. I couldn’t give one answer.
This song isn’t really about one person. There are two people that really inspire certain lines, but in the end, it’s kind of a cluster-fuck. The coffee line is about a certain love of my life, while the guitar pertains to a man who never really was mine, but is just someone beautiful and sad to watch… I guess just sometimes I find myself longing for something that may have never been there, or once was, but now is so long gone I should be over it. I know that I shouldn’t miss these people, those feelings, that past, but I can’t help it. Sometimes I just can’t help myself…
I guess sometimes I worry that missing someone shows weakness, and I was weak at the moment of these lyrics’ conception. It was five am. I was lonely. I missed someone I can never have, and it feels like life is a story of one unrequited love after another. I have this old blog entry I wrote, years and years ago, about unrequited love…
I should put it on here sometime… I thought it was one of the greatest things I’ve ever written. That’s my life somtimes, pages of love stories without endings.
And we’re back…
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2010/02/22
- In: music | random rants | songwriting
- Leave a Comment
So I’ve been gone a while. But post-graduation has been one of the most exciting times of my life thus far, and as things are starting to slow down and the dust is beginning to settle, I’ve decided to come back, and keep this more up-to-date. I want somewhere to vent my writings, and have the freedom to explain them to the world, and maybe, just maybe, someone will read these and feel touched, feel different, and find the words they’ve been searching for.
I know, so cheesy, but that’s what I want for my words… I want them out there, in the loudest way possible.
I think from now on I’m going to do seperate posts for each individual song, and that way things will remain a little more organized perhaps.
And so it begins… welcome to my post-graduation mental breakdown 
Music Monday
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2009/11/30
- In: meme | music | music monday
- 1 Comment
I chose this song this week because it’s completely stuck in my head today. I just feel like this song is so dark and mixes the conversation between white lies and truth. This seems to fit my life pretty well lately. Anyways, I hope you enjoy
Still
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2009/11/18
It’s been two years
And things ain’t been the same
I cry your name
In the dark, to stars, late at night
And now it’s cold
I guess the leaves still fall the same
But I still miss your face
When you’d laugh
I’d laugh too
I’d follow you
To any dark shadester stoner home
And in the smoke
We brought past to their knees
Now these memories
Can’t help but bring me down
It’s been two years
And things ain’t been the same
I cry your name
In the dark, to stars, late at night
And now it’s cold
I guess the leaves still fall the same
But I still miss your face
In that dorm bed
We were only friends
We never held our hands
To the bonds they expected from us
And still I ask
Could you have held in more?
But now these closing doors
Only show me glimpses of what could of been
It’s been two years
And things ain’t been the same
I cry your name
In the dark, to stars, late at night
And now it’s cold
I guess the leaves still fall the same
But I still miss your face
One.
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2009/11/11
- In: music | songwriting
- Leave a Comment
One.
You were the one.
You were the one who let me down.
You were the one.
You were the one who I never found.
I broke my own heart, baby,
The day I let you let me down.
You are the one.
You are the one who can’t move on.
You are the one.
You are the one who wrote this song.
I walked away,
But you were the one opening the door.
I can’t ever say I regret a damn thing.
I did you right.
I did you right,
When you couldn’t see it was killing me.
You saw too late.
You see it too late.
You were the one.
You were the one with the sharp tongue.
You were the one.
You were the one, and now I’m left with no one.
Baby, I wish it was my fault
That I had to leave you.
This is something I wrote after a certain boy and I broke up. We were best friends for 2 years, and dated a year, before it all competely ended. It needed to, though. He changed, and when I wrote this, I wanted to envoke the blues I was feeling inside. I was trying to make this sound like an old blues song, and make it slow and sad. It isn’t meant to be entirely hopeless, but there is a sense of assuredness I wanted to portray.
Delayed Music Mondays…
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2009/11/11
- In: meme | music | music monday
- 1 Comment
I picked this song because of everything going on in my personal life right now. Sometimes you just need to push someone away for their own good. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but if you really love someone, you do what is best for them, even if they don’t see it at the moment.
Can’t help but LOVE this song. It’s so sexy and seductive and just, I don’t know. It’s a beautiful piece of writing that brings images of an exact moment, which I admire.
When Revision Is Redesign: Key Questions for Digital Scholarship::Code
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2009/11/04
In this part of the article, Delagrange discusses the use of code in order to further the argument of the “Wunderkammer.” She believes that in order for people to fully understand technical literacy, they must understand it fully and deeply, rather than just adequately. She mentions programs like WebCT and Blackboard and speaks about how teachers who expect students to have technological literacy must also adhere to these expectations, and programs like these only give surface understanding. This is similar to the idea that one cannot fully read a book unless they understand each individual word. Code is the backbone and spine of the “Wunderkammer,” but does more than to just present an idea. Rather, the code helps the persuasiveness, and works with “Wunderkammer.” Although Delagrange chose more elaborate script at times when revising, she did so because it helped further the argument, rather than just adequately going along with it.
Code is more than just the structure and spine of the “Wunderkammer.” Rather, the code provides the persuasiveness, and helps the “Wunderkammer.”
Open Mic Night…
Posted by: kimber87 on: 2009/10/28
So tonight is Open Mic Night again, and I don’t know what to read…
What do you think? I can read more than one, but I don’t want to read them all, okay?
I Don’t Know That I Can Do This.
I don’t know that I can do this.
He once smelled of white t-shirts and grease, cigarettes and stale beer, old garages and car exhausts.
He let me dance on his toes, drive Mom’s first car
…he bought her that car…
He brought me up in love, picked me up in concerts, and showed me things I was too small to see on my own.
I remember,
We used to drive for nowhere, stop for hotdogs, and sing old punk songs no four-year-old should know,
But I knew.
I still know his holes, his eyes, and the way his voice gives podium to the truth.
I still know his fear he glazes with fatherly comfort and strength and he’s stood so tall
For me–for us.
One night Momma left because the bills couldn’t be paid and Daddy tried to put my hair into a tight pink bow, and I cried.
He later smiled to a stadium full of our Tyrone, Georgia smalltown football fans as he held my sister’s hand–proud.
He’s always been proud.
One year later, I was holding his hand as he laid in a hospital bed unable to finger a fork into a soft peach cup.
One year later, I was holding my mother’s hand as she watched her other half lose half his lung to a doctor who had no idea what he even had in his hands.
One year later, I was a woman holding together her father’s small business, her mother’s home, and her sister’s senior year.
One year later, I was a little girl watching her father die,
And then he survived.
He fought his whole life to stand for his family and finally he won.
We thought he had won…
So how do I tell my father that I can be that strong again?
How do I face his fears and try to push back the visions of a wedding without someone to lift the veil?
How do I fight my “what-ifs” and tears and own shaking hands to tell him there’s no reason to shake?
He can do this again…
How do I?
How can I write you, look at you, explain to you with words the fear I once felt as I cried into a dark empty night, begging for my father’s life?
And what it means to feel that wordless fear again?
How can I?
Please forgive me if I can’t stand with a smile on my face, with a mask of faith.
Forgive me God for my fear shaking in my hands and trying to pry itself through my mouth showing teeth.
I just need him to stand
I need him to believe
I need him to lift me off my own knees.
But how can he when he’s been brought to his own?
How can he?
My father–the man–with the tattoos and motorcycles and scars on the knuckles of his hands.
My father–the man–who puts the fear into my boyfriends and the respect into my heart.
My father–the man–who lost his right lung but never lost his heart, nor his pride.
My father who stands tall with my mother’s right still holding on to his left hand.
My father–the man.
But my father is just a man. My father is just a man.
I don’t know that I can do this, Daddy, I don’t know that I can do this again.
But I have to do it again.
I have to, we have to, my family and father and mother and sister, we have to do this again.
We can do this again.
God, I’m praying, I’m begging.
Help us do this again.
God, I’m praying, I’m begging.
Help us do this again.
God, I’m praying, I’m begging.
Help us do this again.
it’s undermining every breath i take
it’s the light in my eyes as i wake
this car crash of a heart
it won’t even start
pushing back the shower curtain
it’s sitting there, it’s pulling open
i pretend not to see
what you’re telling me
and i am running farther than i should from you
and i am praying in every moment i’m missing you
i’m missing you
i’ll pretend
and i’ll wait
for you to really hit my face
and i’ll
i’ll forget to see
how everything is a memory
bring me back
those couches and the wine
the classes and our time
his wrinkled nose
and your house you chose
bring me back
your smile and your breath
i can’t handle death
i though you knew
you took with you everything
we can’t even breath
you’re haunting me
bring me back
the projects and the green
the movies and my dream
the turntable
and peeled beer lables
bring me back
your smile and your breath
i can’t handle death
i thought you knew
i thought you knew
well now you know
now you know
i’m missing you
i’m missing you
i am running farther than i should from you
i am praying in every moment i’m missing you
i’m missing you
You were the one.
You were the one who let me down.
You were the one.
You were the one who I never found.
I broke my own heart, baby,
The day I let you let me down.
You are the one.
You are the one who can’t move on.
You are the one.
You are the one who wrote this song.
I walked away,
But you were the one opening the door.
I can’t ever say I regret a damn thing.
I did you right.
I did you right,
When you couldn’t see it was killing me.
You saw too late.
You see it too late.
You were the one.
You were the one with the sharp tongue.
You were the one.
You were the one, and now I’m left with no one.
Baby, I wish it was my fault
That I had to leave you.
Georgian Clouds.
These Georgian clouds
Left me confused
Stuck slow between
These grays, these blues
A broken rain
Falls through soft green
The season turned
But is leaving me
You lay your words
On an empty line
I can’t let go
You can’t apolgize
Another fallen petal
Hits my floor
You can’t let live
What hasn’t before
A broken smile
A toss of hair
Under my breath,
“He didn’t care,”
Between my palms
Lay rosen beads
The beads you let
Cut into me
And horses always must run free
You let wild horses drag you from me
I wrote down bridges
I wrote down flames
I wrote down chases
I wrote down planes
But I can’t chase
Who isn’t there
There’s just ink
A desk, a broken chair
I have some pictures
I have this place
I have some people
Brushing hair from my face
I have this pen
Some lyrics, too.
I have enough
To get myself over you.
I thought these words
Would bring out tears
Like broken rain
It’ll always clear
A broken glass
Still keeps some light
It reflects back
Upwards in torn sight.
Walk Away.
I’ve gotta say I’m sorry for doing you wrong
You were right all along
Maybe I shouldn’t’ be here now
Maybe I should walk away now
I can’t help but breathe you in
You’re like the air, I swear
You’ve always been there
Maybe I shouldn’t be here now
Maybe I should walk away now
But I can’t stop, I can’t stay
I can’t do this, but I can’t walk away
I’m so entrapped, I’m breathing rain
You’re the one who kept me watching planes
I’m screaming country songs
And I know what Momma would say
But I swear I swear I swear I can’t walk away
I didn’t forget what those looks mean
I swear you can read me
Maybe I shouldn’t be here now
Maybe I should walk away now
I can’t help but give you everything I have
Its only natural to breathe
And as you can see, I’m losing me
Maybe I shouldn’t be here now
Maybe I should look away now
But I can’t stop, I can’t stay
I can’t do this, but I can’t walk away
I’m so entrapped, I’m breathing rain
You’re the one who kept me watching planes
I’m screaming country songs
And I know what Daddy would say
But I swear I swear I swear I can’t walk away
Cracks in the Ceiling.
Watching the cracks in the ceiling
I swear they’re coming down on me
That ceiling fan’s wobblin’ and weavin’
And I’m trying to remember how to breathe
I feel like I ought to be praying
Apologizing to God on my knees
No, I can’t sleep and you’re making weak
Watching the cracks in the ceiling
I’m a sinner, I swear, it’s me
I wish I could run from it all
But the past will always bury me
And I can’t recover from the fall
So here, right now, hear me
I’m sorry, I’m begging
Just give me one damn chance
I want to be something more than the woman
Who lost herself in three years flat
I’m buried, not beaten, and I’m gonna keep digging
Myself out of the grave I’ve made
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I am
So leave me here, waiting and watching
I need to get out of the way
The cracks in the ceiling, they’re coming for me
I can’t remember if I’m breathing
The cracks in the ceiling, they’re coming for me
And I can’t remember if I’m breathing
But I know, I know, I’m kneeling.
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