You have the hands of a pianist,
she said.

I disagreed.

For mine are fingers
that articulate not fluid
nocturnes,
or comatose melodies,
but speak instead
         with intermittent,

desultory                     sighssss,

wrought upon leaden keys
in the dead of night.

Words hook like a noose around my soul,
hungering to take it
somewhere forsaken,



somewhere unknown.

For every poem I write
starts
           and ends
in a different place.

This one for instance,
was supposed to be about

                                                 Cats.

Headaches and Home
09/10/2010

You remember the comfort of that living room,
Summers that never seemed to fade,
But now all that your accustomed to,
Is a blinding headache.

So you try not to move on that sofa near the door,
Because the more you do, the less you see the floor,
And the pain is so complete so intense, at least you know it exists,
What could matter more than this?

And those dreams that you have, of blizzards and snow,
They tell you more about you, than you ever seem to know,
And the truth is that you want nothing more,
Than to go back to that place called home.

Because its not the people, not even the places,
Just the way the setting sun made you feel,
So your already sick of all these blank faces,
But atleast you can hold onto something real.

You dont have to cry, you never liked wet eyes,
There's a time and a place for such things,
So supress all those emotions, the happiness in being,
Just get a headache from the swallowed "feelings"

I watched my father from a distance
Being mauled by a bear
And even from this far away
In his eyes i could see fear
Pure ******* fear

I listened to lucy tell me
The worst thing Ive ever heard
About how 2 men grabbed and  ***** her
Is that worse than being mauled?

I do not know
But i guess they mustve screamed
So loudly into the distance
She was only thirteen

Only thirteen
And I was twelve at the time
I asked her if it hurt
I should’ve known better
Instead I made it worse

I met Daniel at a party
He showed me his scars
He said his father shot himself
So he decorates his arms

And monica paints pictures
Of skies so beautifully blue
Though she herself is dying
Just skin and bones and truth

I asked her if she found it
In all the painting’s she created
Did you find Daniels father?
Was he cremated?
Did you find Lucy’s innocence?
Unburdened her of her shame?
Can your paintbrush do that?
Can it make you sane?

What about my mother
Does she have a say
Can she ever get back
What was lost that day?

Can you paint my eyes
So they un-see what was seen
Can you paint the sounds
Of Lucy's silent screams
Can you paint Daniels arms
Make the scar's disappear?
Can a ******* painting
Ever make things all clear?

I know you're reading this.
You.
Sat there.
In you bedroom,
Probably on your bed.
Reading. This.
Expecting poetry to drip from the page like honey.
A tall tale of freedom, a hero, a damsel in distress.
Longing to be saved.

I don't know if I can.
I don't know what to do.
I see you, I mean her,
The damsel in distress but...

If she'd just throw me a rope down,
I could easily climb up to help you.
I mean her....

I gave your voice to the sun
I tried to catch the stars in my hands
But they fell through and cut me
Sliced my fingers into two

There is nothing in the sky but your silence
Looks like the sun burned the sound of music away
And the stars sparkle on the floor from when they landed here
As for me I am nowhere
Nowhere

I tried to give your voice to the sun
But the sound of music burned away
And the stars, they fell one by one
Cut my hands away
Tried to give you to the sun

Our moon is incompatible
November's cold and grey
You have ***** fingernails
Whereas I try to wash the dirt away

And what I once thought was music
Was just the sound of a thousand shattering stars
And what I once thought was beautiful
Was merely a thousand glittering scar's

You are a silly little man-child
And I am just a little girl
But as for me, I am tired
Of the blunt beauty of this world

I am on Pluto dear
You are on Mars
We sold each other out honey
We destroyed the stars

Her hand felt like snow
He remembered
When forever used to be
And death had taken it away

She was the tree
That always bloomed flowers
He was the bird
That always took refuge

She had to wither
Like a fragile rose
He wanted to hold on
When she had let go

The sky turned grey
On a summer day
He stood
Feeling the wind

Where oceans end
Where skies meet
Her love exist
In the depths of his heart

We start off so excited to grow up,
so dedicated to our maturity.
If only we knew the hell we would face.
The decaying of our heart's flesh,
the tearing of our minds,
trying to find ourselves in mud,
because that's all we see in ourselves.
No such thing as flawless,
we are all perfectly broken.
Looking for ourselves in mud,
That is all we will ever see in ourselves.

I hit you so hard I quivered inside
But I was glad to see you were finally listening
Hearing at least what I felt you should be doing through
the sting of my touch
I watched the fear and betrayed look in your eyes
I had your attention
You would do as I said
Now

Why do you make me hit you
You know I care about and for you
Would lay my life on any line - train or moral
for your happiness and safety
would go any lengths dark and dangerous valleys
compromising myself as long as I knew you would be fine

You know that I love you
this is why you test me so
that set stubborn look in your eye
as you dare not speak or answer me back
I will not have such disrespect
not from you
not after all i have done and will do for you

You will not defy me in your tongue
for i will never understand
much less forgive you
and you will not last
very long without my favor
you will feel the pain of my letting you go
refusal to even look at you
long before i ever leave the room

so hear me, heed me, appreciate the fervor that i pursue
you for you
longing only for you acquiescence
plainly for your normal self
the sparkle and regard
as a fair response to my brand of discipline

Stop showing
You love me
A little at a time.

Stop saying
You care
Bit by bit.

Stop keeping
Me here
For tiny pieces of time.

Because I need
All of you
Not piece by piece.

I love
All of you
Not just some parts of you.

So love all of me
All the way
All the time.

Or let all of me go
All at once
For good.