I sit in the shade
On summer days
And wish I could reach the sunlight.

My days are grey,
And I dream of days
Where I wake up in that same light.

On those days,
I will jump out of bed
And be happy to look in the mirror.

I cannot lie,
I am looking forward
To those days where I will feel better.

Why do you come here knowing what we've done,
Why do torture me dangling constant reminders of our forbidden fun,
My heaving chest betrays revealing dark memories burned into my skin,
I try to fight the heat you bring out in me afraid of what will happen if it wins,
Your lips were not meant for mine but their taste lingers still,
Your teeth sunk into me the memory is more potent than any pill,
I try hard to  concentrate on not noticing the intoxicating look in you eyes,
I know where this will lead and we promised that last kiss we cut all ties,
So why show up here again with  that all too yelling look in your eyes.

I was a tap dancer once
back in the day
I enjoyed myself rather much
until I fell down a hill
broke both my legs
awoke to much blood. Things
became quite unclear
So I had a couple of beers,
thought I'd make a couple of
friends.

People in this city
they leave you mid-conversation
Before you even get started
Look at your paralyzed talent,
see that you are not
well-guarded, and you fall on
your face.
You embrace their words.

When I was a kid
I became a tap dancer
for love. Those were the days
I could still feel
My skull fresh, new ideas
peeling out
Twirlings, stomping, toe-trappings, beats
poetries.
Tries and fails straight from
a bleeding heart--
Don't get me started on my legs
Once upon
they were there now they're gone
along with souls of shows of
audiences of happiness of
life of
everything I had known.

People in bustling cities
they leave you on your way
before they let you stay
Look at you paralyzed talent,
see that you are not
well-guarded, you lose a
good pace.
You embrace their eyes on your face.

Once upon I was a tap dancer now I'm gone
Meanwhile you better miss me
One of us is too blind to see
these artist's legs heal
Back in the day, I'd been a real steal
Now, lying here,
does it matter?
No, I still bled on the snow
I'm still very sorry
for what I've done to myself,
what I let them do to me
People are so kind
but they want so much
I climbed high, for them.
And I fell in spite of them.
Their cackles and Ahs had
stunted my growth
Limbs not strong enough to
make the voyage

By then
the love which marked my youth
had gone.

People of the lighted cities
they want you looking oh-so pretty
before you are fully renewed
Paralysis is going away,
so bring me back well-guarded, ready to fall on
my face only to rise again.
I embrace their participation in the routine.