I have been used
I have been abused
But you wouldn’t know that

You say you see me
You say you know me
But you don’t
You just want
To see what you want
To hear what you want
But you wouldn’t know that

I was mistreated
Misunderstood
And hurt
People looked down on me
And treated me like
I was nothing
But you wouldn’t know that

You look through me
Not at me
You hear me
But don’t listen
You ignore my words
And ignore me
But you wouldn’t know that

I have been talked at
Not with
I have been told to
Not asked
I have been laughed at
Not with
But you wouldn’t know that

I’ve been treated
For so many different
Problems
Your head would spin
I’ve tried so many
Medications
You would go insane
But you wouldn’t know that

I’ve tried to work past
All the beatings
The darkness
The bullying
The abuse
It hurts
But you wouldn’t know that

I’ve told my story
To few others
Because the few I’ve told
Don’t believe my story
Because I’m me
Because I’m happy
As happy as can be
But you would believe that
Wouldn’t you?

And as you sit there
reading
You don’t know who I am
Where I’m from
What I do
What I want
What I wish
What I need
Because you simply
Don’t
Know
That
Nor
Do you care.

each new shake of the square box,
another white stick.
the lighter to burn her death certificate
after her lips have already signed.

When I was young
I would close my eyes and hum.
Hum away the pain.
Where were you when it rained?
I lie coiled up on the ground
wishing to be a pretty leaf on a tree.
Only to grow old and fall down.

if you asked me to define love, i would run so far that not even the moon could hear the whispering in my bones

and i know it's not a wordless song but i don't know what to feel.
i know there is a needle in your heart,
and a letter that's forever sealed,
but i like you.
you can play my thoughts like a violin on fire,
and you know the path that never ends unless you were to conspire
a way to die without making a mess.

and maybe i never make sense with the flower stem questions and my map of comparisons
but i won't go claim innocence to thoughts that seem to linger
until your heart says, "hey,
slow down."

but a feather's still a feather,
whether it stays on a bird or falls free.

and maybe i'm a dysfunctional robot and you can't fix me
but god i want to wear your smile
and save you from the journeyless destinations
but it's not like that.

my mind has a rusty lock
but i wear a metal hat
and to get through the glass you need to love yourself
and i can't do that
i can't be that.

and some days i fight with voiceless ghosts for a chair that hurts my back
and maybe nothing i say will ever be fact
and maybe it's not about if you understand,
and maybe on those 'not even tea can warm my frost bitten soul' nights,
i want to hold your hand
and feel your heart beat like an electric shock right across my scratchy throat
but my loneliness is louder than the echo in my empty gut
and i scream at the thoughts bursting through my stomach like a gunshot to the soul
and the wound is a deeper cut
than the scars that are painted across my skin because of the 4:05am guilt that says "you'd rest easier in a coffin."

these words will be the wrinkles buried in my face
and maybe if you were a strawberry banana smoothie, i'd like to have a taste
but thoughts are hiding in the caves of shame and disbelief
and it's better to read STOP signs than forget to breathe.

but a feather's still a feather,
whether it stays on a bird or falls free.

(it's not good to jump the fence,
if you already have the key.)

Teaching high school kids the craft
Directing them in their school show
Teenagers singing just off key
With a band that's one beat slow
Holding rehearsals when the gym is free
Have you really sunk this low
Are you truly at your bottom
Or are you "Waiting for Godot"?

"YOU'RE ON IN FIFTEEN MINUTES...MR. WILSON"

Doing plays in local theater groups
With untrained  amateurs on stage
You tell them all your stories
And you keep them on their page
It's not exactly where you started
Talent that you just can't gauge
Selling programs in the lobby
It's time you act your age

"TEN MINUTES TILL SHOWTIME MR. WILSON"

Touring shows around the country now
Second touring group, smaller towns
Doing revival shows of Sondheim
"Sweeney Todd " and "Send in the clowns"
Living out of an old suitcase
The countryside a sea of browns
Where you are at the local's mercy
And there's less ups than there are downs

"FIVE MINUTES TO SHOW TIME MR. WILSON"

You've made it, you're on Broadway
Starring roles are yours to choose
Where the highlights of last nights show
Are in today's reviews
Where a sold out run continues
And your name is in the news
You're an actor, and you're famous
The world is yours to lose

"SHOW TIME MR.. WILSON...ON STAGE PLEASE"

The kids are out there schlepping
working their way through the *****
singing songs sung by the Beatles
"All This and World War II"
You're just a pillar standing, sweating
As you see what you can do
You're still an actor, and you know it
You'll need a drink when this is through.

Deep down where my hate grows
Till anger breaks it's chains
Near to those few memories
Of you fading away
Living in the clouds above
Never looking down
Jumping into anything
Wishing you would come with
Hell follows you back
To those scars you left on my heart
Pushing me over the edge
Free falling back to earth
Waiting for something
Anything to happen
Trying desperately  to
Feel you again
Leaving me behind
I went Looking for someone to care
Damaged I sit patiently
Accepting the stares
Loves bruises threaten to show
As I learn to care for them
Those people I used to know
My means to an end

I am playing with fire,
because apparently I haven't learned.
I'm playing with fire,
and I am not the one who will get burned.

Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.
No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.
Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!
Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?
To ease me of this power to think,
That through my ***** raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.
Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.
Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am ****’d on earth!
Sweet steel! come forth from our your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!
I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the ****** dart,
My last—my only friend!