You throw grenades
in my direction and
then run away, leaving
me to try to make sense
of the rubble and dirt
you leave behind.

I watched
As you held on with every breath
I laughed
When you had nothing left
I smiled
At every mistake you made
I stopped
When I saw that I was unsafe
I saw
The thing that hurt you beyond belief
I felt
The blade that cut you so **** deep
I cried                                            
For all the same reasons
I stayed    
When you would've made the choice to leave...

By A Foreigner

I like Canadians.
They are so unlike Americans.
They go home at night.
Their cigarettes don't smell bad.
Their hats fit.
They really believe that they won the war.
They don't believe in Literature.
They think Art has been exaggerated.
But they are wonderful on ice skates.
A few of them are very rich.
But when they are rich they buy more horses
Than motor cars.
Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town.
But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal
In Chicago.
Nobody works on Sunday.
Nobody.
That doesn't make me mad.
There is only one Woodbine.
But were you ever at Blue Bonnets?
If you **** somebody with a motor car in Ontario
You are liable to go to jail.
So it isn't done.
There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars
In Chicago
So far this year.
It is hard to get rich in Canada.
But it is easy to make money.
There are too many tea rooms.
But, then, there are no cabarets.
If you tip a waiter a quarter
He says "Thank you."
Instead of calling the bouncer.
They let women stand up in the street cars.
Even if they are good-looking.
They are all in a hurry to get home to supper
And their radio sets.
They are a fine people.
I like them.

I'm writing letters on my body
All the things that I can't say
So when you find my body
You can finally get my way

Those words will be all the twilight has left
As the sun and the moon kiss the edge

I'm writing letters on my body
To tell and untold story
So when you see all those A's and O's
Please think of me when it snows

Those words will be all the ground has left
As the dirt covers up the message

I'm writing letters on my body
To draw you a map to rescue someone else

When I stand by your side, my skin can melt steel,
When I hear you heart singing, mine starts to heal.
When I look in your eyes, I see the beauty of stars,
Whenever you cry, I wish I bore your scars.