To me, secrets
Like an old
Over my wrists,
In my fingers.
This is where
Coffee shop blues flutter on a low breeze;
Smokey jazz unbalanced on the stage;
Raw emotion flickers in the melting candles;
Drizzle on a Monday morning;
Bicycling by, a man late for work;
A whining saxaphone on a street corner;
A wailing trumpet from the balcony above;
A bass booming from somewhere below;
A distant drummer beats out a rhyme;
Coffee shop blues flutter away with the breeze.
It's a bit cold and drizzly out tonight
The summer grows restless and wild
My hope runs away out of my sight
Chased by my inner lost child
I wish to cry but my tears ducts are dry
I can only feel life through my pain
As my body grows weak my heart sadly beats
And tiredness bleeds from my brain
I'll save my voice for no one will hear
And even fewer can truly give a damn
The drizzling rain is falling in vain
For happiness has gone on the lam
The umbrella on the drops makes a tiniest splattering
Of collected shades of transparency: Memory
And the whitenoise of the rain
(step step splatter ripple)
Serve to recolour in sepia shades
Even the grayest seconds
of Yesteryear’s faces and embraces.
Rain comes down in blanketing sheets
Comforting those with lost hope
Running after those who leave
In fear of those who don’t
Collecting in holes to fill the silence
Only creating shallow pools
Mirroring back the wavering souls
Consoled in the shower of cold.
If people were rain,
I was drizzle,
and she was a hurricane."
Maybe I am one, a hurricane.
Inside I crave the peace and serenity
Granted to mid-morning drizzles
Falling gently on side walks,
But I cannot calm my dark,
Repetitive, abrasive thoughts enough
To bring in and accept my
Yearning for some quiet.
I can never stay anywhere,
For too long.
"I need to go. I need to get out of here."
But, with you,
I forget time.
I feel open and vulnerable.
I just want to stop it all,
And just be happy.
Is that alright?