my heart is a violin
with too many strings

play my heartstrings
let your fingers pull my emotions
rest your hand on the back of my neck
i cannot make anything beautiful on my own
but sweetheart you can make me sing so softly

hold me close
dear i'll always love you
feel my skin, polished-smooth
warm under your hands
and know i'm yours

calm my frazzled strings
soothe my worn-out pegs,
drawn tighter and tighter and tighter
straining so deeply to hold
the strings in place
let me cling to you
let me take solace and peace
for but a few moments

my heart is a violin with too many strings,
played by too many people
my strings have been drawn taught
my body has grown tired
my music has grown dull
but with your gentle hands
encompassing the surface of my heart
i can learn to trust again
i can learn to sing again
and sweetheart i can sing so sweetly
for you

she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.

Remember when we used to chat all the time?
All the sweet words you kept raining on me.
That my brain keeps telling me
No no no. Don't fall for him. Don't.
Run. Save yourself.
But no.
I read your words.
I heard them.
Wanting so badly to believe.
I did.
Blindly letting you lead the way.
And in the darkness I was drunk on your sweet, sweet words.
Then you pulled away.
Letting me roam and bump and fall and scrape myself.
With bruises and cuts and you
Never. Once. Helped. Me.
I lay helplessly on the ***** floor.
Messy and sticky with your then sweet promises.
If I see you again,
I want you to repeat all your words.
See how you like it now.
See how you can say it straight to my face.
All the empty promises.
All the fake confessions.
I hope you choke on them.
I really hope you choke on them.

-m.b

Roses are red?
Violets are blue?
April sees the end for spring
and I am dead to you.