What's the point in breathing?
Her toes grip the edge.
What's the point in breathing?
Her arms stretch out wide.
What's the point in breathing?
Her eyes close slowly.
There is no point in breathing.
She lets go

I sit outside your house, lights off.
Life goes on but I'm still here.
I followed you on your way home
so when I've lost myself I can sit here,
pretend you'll come find me,
and wish you could be the miracle
that would save my broken heart.

Wait, what's this?
To my surprise you walk out your front door,
through the yard, to my car.
You open the door, come inside,
and you find me.
Your hands roam across my body, my soul,
and your lips meet mine
You breath life into me; I am alive!
But I know this isn't real -
or at least it won't last for forever -
so I close my eyes and savor
this moment in time
that is yours as much as mine,
where loneliness is nothing more
than a long forgotten pain.

She paces the floors of that empty house
like a feral animal - caged.
Alone in darkness
the hours drag on; nothing stirs,
or is she the one truly sleeping?
Wandering through solemn shadows, dreaming
there is music carved on her walls
as forgotten as nails
left behind -
by whom?
None shall know.
Her morose, hollow voice sings along
with no tune and no ending.
Detached notes strung together
run across the wallpaper,
through the floorboards,
but never through the door.
Her body dances in rays of moonlight
like a marionette controlled by chains.
She longs to join the stars,
flickering sparks of light in a sea of dark,
if only she could reach.
Restrained, she flows in free pattern
faster, faster
until imagination gives her wings.
Her spirit stretches then,
reaching for those stars.

Wings beating at the air,
pushing bodies from the ground,
intrigued me as a child.
Birds
   Bats
      Angels
         Dragons
            and other winged creatures
beckoned me to join them
through pages and fairy tales I held dear.
I wanted to be like them;
to have wings and fly
to places only imagined.
But life is cruel,
and I got my reality check
sooner than I was ready to let go.
I know now
that humans will never fly
    with wings of bone
        and skin
            and feathers.
I am forever bound to the Earth,
this place.
                  And yet…
                                  I still dream.

What is that red stuff all on the floor?
I don't recall it being there before.
Could it be from this gaping wound in my chest
where you ripped out my heart and claimed it was for the best?
Then you spoke those words that shook me to the core,
"I think it's very clear: you're not wanted anymore."

It's too bad that the only touch
I'll ever know from your hand
is the sharp sting of your love.
This couldn't be what we planned.
Teetering on the edge of a broken smile
and not knowing when the pain will end.

So I stand and scream my lungs to the sky,
"I will not allow my love to die!"
Help me finish what I couldn't start,
because I can't stand to fall apart.

Tonight I'll fight beside my anger;
daring to scream these words I feel.
Admitting these, a heinous crime,
but release feels so surreal.

Tonight I'll cry with my sorrow,
lay my fears to rest a while,
and attempt to gather the tiny fragments.
Don't touch me - I'm fragile.

Tonight I'll bleed with my pain
until I am left drained and hollow.
I search for a feeling of contentment,
knowing I'll be better by tomorrow.

Tonight I'll speak my mind.
You are a stranger to me, no friend;
but your attention and silence comforts me,
until I may resume my life again.