My muse committed suicide
three months ago at ten.
With her she took all my paper,
my pencils, and the pen.

I really need to resurrect her
or at least draw out her ghost,
cuz all my writing has begun to stink,
and it's smelling up the coast.

So anyone got a crystal ball?
A seance? or a clue??
On how to bring back baby muse?
I need her through and through...

Many days have passed since I was young.
As  a child, I was optimistic, pure, and loving.
Keen, curious, with a passion for making things better.
Everything could be shined over, cleaned, polished, loved.

I don't know anymore, where that child went,
Though often the cynical angry adult in me misses her.

But I face the facts that where I desire more than
Everything, or anything in the world to make it
That much better, and to heal the hearts of
Those lost that I love, I just can't do it anymore.
Everything I say seems hollow, fake, and horribly plastic.
Reality says that I just can't make it better anymore.

Mother, it's me.
I'm calling once more,
and here on your voice mail
my heart I will pour.

I'm lonely out here,
the world is so cold,
the people so selfish,
and I feel so old.

Mother, I'm calling.
Can I come back home?
I'm hungry, I'm tired,
I don't need to roam.

I ache in this place
that I once called my heart.
I feel like I'm splitting,
that I'm tearing apart.

Mother, I'm crying.
I'm broken, I'm done.
Please remember I love you
but I've run my last run.

Well Mother, I'm going.
There's no more to seek.
I think that I'll sleep now.
I'll call you next week.

Hello?

There's echoes bouncing
off the clean white halls.
The needles are coming.
I'm climbing the walls.
The doors are all locked
but it's all in my head.
I can't get a line out,
the phones are all dead.

Hello?
Can you hear me?

Whenever I blink
I get blood in my eyes.
They say they are tears,
I say they are lies.
Your glittering sharpness
obsesses my heart.
They say that I'm bitter.
I say I'm a ****.

Hello?
I think it's dead.
No. The line.
It's dead.

I scream at the warden,
"*******! Let me out!"
But the warden is in ME,
and the warden is doubt.
The doors are all locked,
but it's all in my head.
I can't get a line out,
the phones are all dead.

Hurt is such a vacant word anymore, cuz I can't feel a thing.
Angry at myself, I hack at my skin hoping somehow
That what I find underneath will be something that
Even I can love.

Gentle? Who me?
Even the simplest of the lambs
Now realizes  that I'm no angel.
To be sure, I've made my fair share of mistakes.
Like when I kissed you that night.
Even the stars stood still for that.

Nightly I wrapped myself in your arms.
I the young innocent, you the lion tamer.
Gods, we were so pure.
How can you ever expect things to be better.
Too late we realized our mistake.

Love believes in no one, I think
Only in those who believe in it.
Very stubborn, this thing called love.
Even lambs feel the sting of arrows.

So true to my heart I frolic
Eventually down that shoddy shifty road.
Exacting my revenge on relationships
Showing that I'm the boss by falling in love again.

And for that last second, I breathe you in.
Lover, wrapped in my arms and I'll not let you go.
Love can't you hear me, I'm not ready yet.

Gentle night, love sees all.