You sit like a thousand pounds of led on my chest,
You linger in my lungs and take the life from my breath.
Remember that I will not forget you,
Not now; no, not yet.

The clicking of raven claws,
On the tin roof.
The evening swelling with lonesome cricket songs,
Clouds coming over the mountains,
As black as the coal under them.
Claws that sound like thunder,
Pounding on the tin roof.
Darkness pools in the summer skies,
Pouring and pluming like ink in still water.
The nights in the mountains are lonely,
It's just the ravens and I, and sadness for miles.

Some people live their lives
Like economists.
They see the price of everything,
And the value of nothing.
Do not decrease your value,
Just because someone does not See your worth. -

A second heart beats inside her,
Like the world's smallest drum.
A tiny foot seemingly kicks to the rhythm.
One day, the foot stopped kicking,
And the tiny heart stopped beating,
Then her heart stopped too.
Frozen in her chest,
She has loved nothing since.

Your memory has long since forgotten me,
This winter all I have is your footprints in the snow.
Then spring comes, and washes them all away.
The rain falls, and flowers grow in a corpse's tracks.
Summer dawns, and your scent is carried away
In a breeze that leaves me lonesome.
Fall comes and sheds your clothes from our closet,
Like the leaves from the trees.
Soon, winter comes again, and with it snow.
It leaves me to wonder, where did the time go?

There is so much blood in a woman's life.
When she is born from another woman,
She is covered in it.
All through out her childhood,
There are scraped knees and missing teeth.
The first sign of her coming adult hood,
Is blood, betrayed from her own body.
The first time she gives away a piece of herself,
To love, or circumstance, or by no means her choice,
There is blood, bleeding away a piece of herself.
Then, when she gives another life,
There is blood.
In the baby she loves,
And coursing through her own veins.
Every day her child is outside her,
She bleeds, but this you cannot see.