Who are you who knows my muse?
My ramblings on the page, who hears my voice with each line?
The subtle and shaking truth my mouth has bled?
To you I am grateful
To you I still write
Thank you (as always)
Friend

I walk with a head full of clouds, a mouth full of wisdom
Trudging in a sea of doubt flippantly filling in the void with words unspoken
Teetering on the edge of what is "right" what is "wrong"
Floating on the tempting water between what I am and what I "should be"
What the letters upon the box should say, were they stuff me to forget me
Their labels still sting the inside of my nose, the latex embedded in the skin from each ripping and re-sticking.
I wear a face upon my skin her butterfly headdress bleeds the color of their contempt, the slick lines of abstract freedoms morph to become the fluttering of a thousand wings
What I want most I have bled to show, how my mind works and sees has printed on the skin
Put there to remind all I am more within.

I kicked the edge
of the coffee table
with the top of
my small toe.
And then I thought of you.

I dropped that glass
But nearly caught it
with my then glass
Shard filled hand.
And then I thought of you.

Knicked the edge of
my Razer against the
Contour of my face
while my blood filled
the rest of the mirror.  
And then I thought of you.

But when I nearly
cut myself in half
with that old ax
And dead tree,
I didn't think of you.

You don't want me dead,
Just alive enough to feel the pain,
because when you're dead you can't
feel dead,
when you're living
Sometimes it's all you can feel.

Could there still be love when you know not what I am
I who is changing
In the processes of being
Could the mind understand the non static of the self Believe in the morphing transcendence of the heart where
           I
          am
        NOT
     who I was
Will never be who I am and am forever in a flux of continuity
When you feel my heart it is not the same heart from yesterday
Nor... will it be tomorrow

      An event
            I        
          am

Is it something you could miss
Unfolding in the wavering hands of time
Shimmering with the vibrancy of movement
Being made and remade each second a molecule does stretch
Could you love me with the changing of every breath?

I heard there was a secret chord
That was played and it pleased the lord
But you have never cared for music have you?
But it is worth the baited anticipation
Its glory brings strong men to knees
To cry like a child

Baby I've been here before I've walked these floors and know these doors
What more do you need from me but the assurance of all my deeds
Understanding what I am to become
When in reference to you

But love is more than a victory march
It a cold and broken hallelujah
That screams from the depth of the soul
Shaking down the foundation of bone
Scattering the mind like leaves in the wind
Till nothing is left but that knowledge
Knowing more about yourself from the undoing.

And watching as this time I leave
Footsteps to hollow out the empty