I remember playing the ukulele
A year ago
With you in my living room,
My fingers showing yours
The chords you still had to learn
(A perfect excuse
To hold your hand)

Sunlight pouring,
As the rain does now,
Through the windows
Illuminated
The carefully moving corners
Of your lips
(An imperfect
Yet somehow reasonable excuse
To kiss them).

This morning
As our noses pressed together
And our breathing intermingled
In the bed where I lost my virginity
To the girl
Who taught me those same chords
(To the girl whose lips
Mine found an imperfect excuse to kiss
This afternoon),
I wished that I still had chords
To teach you;
I wished that the sun
Would shine through the rain

I'm attracted to sad eyes
Not sunsets or a pretty dress
The look of pain and loss
But only in the past

Its the empathetic heart I crave
Beating softly in broken cave
Chest bruised from heart-removal
Something close to what I know

There's beauty in symmetry
Particularly when its hidden
A smile at the lovely lips
And a tear in the sad eyes

Another false face, serial lies
Hiding truth of failures scars
A reflection on quality built
I love the look of sad brown eyes

angels falling from the sky
an abundance of delightful
choice, role models inspirations
so many different places to
look, and you were hidden, my
little wallflower, among the
sea shells couture and
more, I finally remove the hair
masks, make up, to reveal your
true, for ever lasting self
admiration regard and respect
no matter the turmoil, struggles
you, endure, I sit back and
try to hold, court, not judge
but sometimes tears flow, pour
from these eyes, and although
you, cannot see why I feel the
pain too, it's there, it's real
and would never be felt if
you, didn't mean the world to
me, cause how can I hurt if
no love is found?
trying to be the best person
possible, to support you through
but a voice always screams not
only, not enough, but also,
why her?
losing you would be a travesty
last year my angel of hope
my Lennon dreamer, princess die
meeting you a dream come true
I swear to god, I refuse to lose
you, please don't let me
don't let me go

© Sia Jane

Silent treatment
to silent screams
Pick a song
for me to interpret
and I'll play the game
but all the same
I'd prefer your mouth to open
and your words to spill out
from the hidden closet
where you hang your armour
Open up your armoire
and take your big boy ******* out
I don't usually allow
just anyone
to punish me, literally
but in the silence
the whip falls sharp
my silent screams
blend with the violin and harp
symphonicaly, it's a tragedy
emotionally it's a travesty
Physically a diversion
down the same old road
Ya are whatcha ya are
it's nice to know

tell me who you think I am
for that, I will be grateful
as time passes, my mind has wondered
does anyone know who I am at all?
I feel undiscovered, over looked

I am a rock that people climb
to scan the horizon line
then repel back down
and unite with one they used me to find

if I had a theme song
it would be candid conversations at a bar
it would be over an hour long
and it would seem to go on and on and on

I am nothing more
than something people take pictures with
a tourist site, a mile marker
a stepping stone, a walking stick
something I'm beginning to comes to terms with

she's got a face like a 1990's beauty queen
high waisted shorts
hair pulled over the top with a miniclip
gun tucked in the back
miniclip
on the front of
her blouse
setting them up
knocking them down
converse allstars that she paid $50 for
grazing the rocks by the waterfall
that she poses in front of

dear 1990's beauty queen
you'd like to be innocent again
but your brown eyes
are locked and loaded
it's just a small trick of fate
that you were born in this decade
the girls here are machine gun prima-donnas
and you were born into them
your high-waisted shorts
won't let you out of it