You said I’m only a small beam of light
And that there’s not much at all to rectify
Once I go dark, I’ll be the darkest night
Once the flame goes out, so does the fight

And if that’s so then when I’m down, I’m really down
And when I’m caught on fire, so is the town
And the night was never blue, it was always black
And the windows to my soul aren’t new, they’re cracked

But despite what you say, I’m not through
Because I refuse to be just a thought to you

I refuse to be just a thought

For the first time…
I saw you
Lips to toes
And you were born for me

Born for me
With all the right stitches and seams
And gleaming with all the right Ooh’s and Aah’s

And I want to make you God
And I want to make you King
And I need to make you mine

I hate when you’re Rush Hour

You get this big yellow school bus smile
With two red fire truck eyes
And you’re breath becomes bumper to bumper
And just keep stopping and going
And it makes me so nauseous
That I have to get off the road

I should always be the X in tic-tack-toe
‘Cuz X marks the spot
And that’s where the gold is
And maybe I’m gold? Not sterling silver



...O’s are just  hollow and empty

I try to keep my memories close to me
But memories are mobile; fleeting
They get restless and want to travel
And I don’t want to smother them
And have them leave me forever
So I just let them go
But I know that at the end of each day
They’ll come lay in my bed with me
And keep my mind warm
When my heart is cold

It’s 4 AM
I want to sleep
And disappear in my bed
And go to the Mother Dreamland
But instead I’m at my desk
With a blank paper and quivering pen
That refuse to fall in love with each other
And a mind that won’t regurgitate words
And eyes that won’t stay focused

And I see everything
Everything but the paper now
I see the glare of my TV on the wall
Changing colors as quickly as I blink
I see the evil heater that won’t work
Forcing me to put on three sweaters
I see the dying threads in my sweaters
After a losing battle with my dryer
I see the coffee stains on my pajamas
And the cup of coffee that made them

And then I see my paper again
And it’s crying
And the pen is crying
Because now they want to be together
But I’m keeping them apart
And so I write…

You choose what you want to see
All the cracks in things
The grains of dirt; the dust in the room
The slits in the sheets; the clothes on the floor
You look right through me
I’m transparent
My words are air
My thoughts are water
You are king
I am nothing
          Until you want to see me