I name you Pygmalion
because between
my skin and delusion
you have carved
an ivory woman. You
have carved her
with your eyes. But
for all your looking,
you can’t see, little
blind man, that
I have no need
of Aphrodite’s blessing.
In the strength
of my spine
and the flash
of my teeth
and the skill
of my hands, hands
you did not hew,
I hum with
power, ferociously
alive.
The only thing of mine
you will ever be king of,
King Pygmalion,
is the likeness
you sculpt
in your dreams.

What makes your soul cry
On a Tuesday afternoon?
When the music is the same,
The weather is the same,
But your heartaches more than usual.

What causes the tears to fall
When you are not grief-stricken?
But the hole in your chest grows a few more inches.

What makes the bed your fortress
The sheets, your armor
The pillows, your shield.

What creates the world outside to be your enemy?

It's just a Tuesday afternoon,
and a little rain.

How can you believe my eyes?
magic seeks the commonplace
morning light has passed us by
bitten tongues will bleed disgrace

All this light is empty space
illumination at a price
I don't care to show my face
how can you believe my eyes?

Left your home seeking the light
tragic, gone without a trace
stars are wandering tonight
magic seeks the commonplace

Host of a forgotten place
lost the vision to your sight
new moon waxing as it wanes
morning light has passed us by

Angels mourn the devil's night
beauty lies in fallen grace
frozen flames are burning bright
bitten tongues will bleed disgrace

Look upon my hollowed face
anemic bones can bear no lies
torn by your spellbinding ways
show me your pale heart this night

Then, I might believe my eyes

This little lover went on a date
This little lover stayed home
This little lover had a honey to cuddle
This little lover had none

This little lover vowed never to love
ever again
all the way home.

it's all you can do

How well you do it is up to you.