Let's write a song that we can sing to.

Some poetry from recently. A rather grab bag of thoughts and feelings. Some are real things I'm feelings. Most are fiction.

If you love me,
won't you let me know?
cause this silence is killing me.
We were a one man band on
a New York street corner.
Scratch. Two man band, sharing
one set of instruments.
We were painters on a sidewalk
we were theater manager's
we rang bells are 4am
if you love me
please just let me know
if i could scream or silence for you
i would.
if leaving this was possible,
i would've. i would still.


It's so hard to get you to feel me.
It's so hard to lie here in your arms,
open to you.
You just lie there
holding me.
Monster.
Kissing my lips.
Monster
taking my hands.
Monster,
doesn't see me.
I'm kicking and screaming
against your body
I'm hearing your murmur
it's alright
to my muffled screams.
And you lie there
holding me down.
Monster.
Stealing a kiss.
Monster.
Gripping my hands.
Monster.
Doesn't see me.


Hear her,
in that delicate
soprano voice
swearing in song
and singing of voids.
Even her voice lies to you,
though her words speak truth.
You see the colour of her lips,
not the frown.
The shape of her eyes
not the wall behind them.
And you see the white
fragility of her hands
not them pushing you away.


I close my mind and see him asking for truth,
and her reminding me how it really is.
Lies to myself are still lies.
Maybe more powerful ones.
I can't deny this anymore.
I can't choose to look away.
I never wanted to say those words, not even to myself.
_____'_ _______ ____.

Your heart
under my ear.
Says nothing.
My heart in your teeth,
says it all.
Your heart in my hands
is warm.
And as we mesh and tangle,
as we cross and uncross,
and try to untangle the mess we made,
our hearts in unison.
Our hearts are in chorus,
saying,
"this is the only way it should be"