My hands, they quiver
My voice, it shakes
My heart, its pounding
My head, it aches
My friends, they're dead
My enemies, in power
My life, its passing
My death, next hour

You asked me where
My home was and
I explained to you that rainy night
That my home wasn't a place but
A time in my life
When hope was around
Faith still here
The gun wasn't loaded
And I wasn't filled with fear

You creep up and peek at my swollen eyes
Wordlessly telling me how it’ll all be “okay”
Take that knife right outta my back,
Kiss my forehead and pretend to stay.

Live life like it’s the game you so craftily steer
What’s yours is mine, you plead?
I cannot help if you refuse my offer,
It is such a sad life, my dear.

When you run away, the light you seek will vanish.
Dance in a world you created all your own
The music stops- you panic.
You always were a dreamer.

I gave the hero of this story trust
issues. So that when his castle fell he
wouldn't worry about the damsel still
calling from the ramparts, where I hold court
in the dust. For this is my battlefield
where the headstones will read like love letters
and the weeds will serve as the royal seal.

I gave the hero of this story hope
a magic bean and two old china cups.
But the china, brittle, the bean rotten
as these once fertile lands lie waterlogged.
You can't grow your crops here, boy, go home.
I'll drown this hero before he can stand
the sight of the muddy bank. A hero's death.

I gave the hero of this story bread
water, and melody. To help him sleep
soundly and noiselessly, still. Arms, pillows
sway to the metronome of the city
beating such a heroic retreat. Stand
with fingers touching, childlike and brave.
Until the next wave comes and holds. It breaks.

You played piano almost as well as you played with my heartstrings.
You live with excitement nobody can echo with a voice
stronger than yours. I was following my heart, as you had
directed me to do. I found myself at your doorstep. You always claimed I'd be the last
person you'd turn away. I can be strong for the both of us and go, but I know
someday I'll find myself wandering back to the light at the end of your drive. I hope
you won't let me in. You were never one to invite strangers inside.
If we meet again, will I have the chance to introduce myself as
someone other than your killer? Murdering you
in my own attempt to destroy myself was never my intention. Speaking to
your back was the only easy way to say "I love you".
I hope you always turn around when you're headed my direction. I hope
you always stay the same. I hope you never forgive me.