Why are all the good things scary
You'd think that flying would be breathtaking and exhilarating
But
All I can think about
Is how close I am to falling
It's suffocating

I have built this temple
I have mounted this throne
made myself ruler
of a cold empty world
passed my own laws
that I flout everyday
for mine is the glory
of my special way
I have been left deprived
of love and affection
now I give myself
everything never left wanting
you can enter this realm
maybe sit yourself down
I need someone to polish
my oversized crown

We played with words
and peddled euphemisms,
as we hid behind veils.

We had reality
twisted and bent.
We chided and spat
into the winds
of coercing gales.

I met a woman
brutal in her mercy.

Her embrace was a clinch
to prevent hard blows.
She pulled me close to push me away.
Seeing my nakedness
she leant me a dream
of chainmail and shield.
Taking love from me she gave a reprieve
to a mind resigned to the slow death of feeling.

Ignoring my words she heard
my faint silent heartbeat and
understood that it was music
too quiet for the world to hear
and turned it up louder
than I could stand.
I wept in my deafness
as she danced.

I slept on the bed
of a poet, Gibran
and there fell a poem
into my head
like a song…

“One day you will ask me
which is more important?
My life or yours?
I will say mine
and you will walk away
not knowing
that you are my life.”

I slept on the bed
of a poet, Gibran
and my dreams were filled
in my heart was a song
a longing so sweet
a desire too strong
till the museum guard came
and moved me along