And Like that.
I had this overwhelming urge.
I don't know what came over me.
I asked God is this the route I should take.
This habit of association.
To **** out what may seem to be selfish.
Time is of the essence.
This illusion of what is definite or what may not be.
Certainly this proclamation arrived out of nowhere.
Again I asked.
Notating my lack of patience.
I found the choir of mind without direction.
They stood and hummed.
Some in que.
Others were all over the place.
Without a podium or overreaction to the problem.

Amen, acknowledging your grace.
This aura highlighting sudden fixation.
I sought guidence.
Leaving the trail Whince I came.
I felt pain in my rib.
A spiritual curriculum decided by what's missing.
Again I asked.
More left to the imagination
A reiteration of urge.
The potency of silence.
Engaged by a look.
I understood what the choir was saying

Michael said to Gabriel
"You know the Old Man's tetchy,
have you got your **** together?
Have you got your choir ready?"

Gabriel said, "Just **** out,
have you got that star in place?
I don't see it in the sky yet, 
have you booked the allotted space?

"By the time the magi notice 
and start their journey west
the party will be over,
so I think it would be best
if you tell Him they'll come later,
that the vibe will work far better
if we go ahead with the shepherds 
and then have the kings come later."

Mickey was a little miffed,
but he knew that Gabe was right.
He'd been distracted with the detail
to ensure the star was bright.

So Mickey went and told the Boss,
"It really makes more sense,
cos once Jesus is a toddler
he'll enjoy the frankincense."

I sing the tune of my life alone.
I was born that way, so I do so.
But now that I'm an adult and grown
The melody soars, my breath is slow
The song falters, though I try to sing
The beat of the world goes fast
My voice breaks, and my ears start to ring
With how I let the rhythm fly past.

Through the noise I can see in the crowd
Some partners in crime, catching lost breath
Some others like me, who cannot sing loud
Trying their best to live, to escape death.
So we join hands, and start once again
It's much easier to meet the beat
We're different tunes with a common refrain
Together, the music's almost... complete.

heard the church choir singing songs of praise
but your voice alone was enough to make me holy

the voice of the dim cathedral
haunts my bones
its slim fingers wrap around my neck
and through my skull
a voice from many
releases dawn on the backs of my eyelids
and sets fire to my ribs
a boy beckons us to hail true body
freeing me from earthly restraints

An alto.
Singer in the choir.
A face in the crowd.
But not.

The Alto.
Every eye sticks to her like glue.
The face of the crowd.
And so.

The notes go across the page left and right ; up and down
Do, Mi, So, Mi, Do, So, Do sounds the triad
Nerves begin to increase as I look at the unknown key
The walls around begin to cave in as the ground swallows me whole
Voices in my head say "you can't do this"
My confidence is replaced with doubt
Do, Mi, So, Mi, Do, So, Do plays again
Then it suddenly clicks
The key is known
The interval Do, Ti, Mi is easy as pie
The dotted eighth notes are perfect
The high Do to La doesn't trouble me like always
The low So ends the sight reading
I walk out of the room with a breath of fresh air
I know I just slayed the judges lives back there

At age 8* my teacher would ask me what I wanted to be when I grow up, so I told her a fashion model.
She laughed and wrote it on the board.

At age 9 I wanted to be a doctor along with half of my class.

At age 10 I wanted to be a teacher, they all told me it takes a lot of education and I would have to work hard in order to get there.

at age 11 I wanted to be an artist, they told me to pick something more realistic so I said a singer.
They said to stop playing games and choose a job.

at age 12 I was pretty hooked on the idea of a singer, so I sang
And I sang
And I sang
Until I believed that I was good enough to be famous.

at age 13 I was so confident about my singing
Until I heard their voices.
Most of the girls in my choir were reaching the high notes and their tones were so clear.
I gave up on that dream.
I knew I wouldn't be like them.
So I began poetry.
This was the year I wrote my first poem "nobody cares".
I showed it to a few really close friends and my sister.
They said it was really good, it got them emotionally and that was what I was aiming for.
At first the poem was about 2 pages long but I cut it shorter every time I showed it people because they told me what parts didn't make sense to them.
I took it as a way to improve my poem.
So then I started posting it on quotev, and tumblr, and now hellopoetry.
I wasn't expecting anybody to like it.
I continued poetry and now it comes to me so easily, I can write poems like I'm writing my own name.

at age 14 I told my teacher I wanted to be a poet and he told me that
"I needed to improve"
At age 14 I didn't know what I wanted to be.
Nothing was good enough
Nothing was realistic enough
Nobody gave me enough support to go with my dreams.
At age 14 I decided that I wanted multiple jobs.
I still haven't told anyone because I already know what they're going to say.