a collaboration with Calpurnia Mockingbird*

Write for you
let words pour fourth
for the good of a smile,
to release the pressure,
to dry the tears.

Write for you
because you feel it.
Not for the lightening,
the exclamations at clever rhyming
nor the coloured heart that marks your triumph.

Write for you
for love, for joy, for fun
let your souls soar with the majesty of eagles
upon the freedom of a blank page.

Write for you.
your desires and dreams.
Your wishes and doubts
may echo in the lives of others
but that is not their worth.

Write for you
because it is how you breathe,
how you let go,
be soothed by the flow of ink
for it is your only stillness in an ever spinning world.

Write for you.
Only you.
Always.

He knelt
for twenty
years and
more to
fan the
guttering
flame, and
when he
sifted
through
the ashes
found
no reason
to remain.

your words
give me flight
like a child dreaming,

but childhood
dreams have all
of a lifetime to land,

silence rushes at me
as sharp and
as deep as grief.

I once had a friend called Mad Bob
who thought being a door was his job
he was perfectly hung
and disarmingly swung
with a sigh when you handled his ****.

And if these words should touch your heart
when dance they will past jaded eyes,
weave subtle smiles as tears depart,
from broken hearts and pretty lies.

And if my song it moves your soul
to dance in rhythm to it's beat
then I will sing until you're whole
and darkest fears admit defeat.

Then I will know I've played my part
in bringing light to fractured shore
and I will keep your hand in mine
until the darkness leaves your door.

I am broken
I am scars
I am silence
I am darkness
I am trouble.
I am *****
I am damaged
I am faults wrapped in eager flaws.
I am unrepentant
I am shamed
I am shattered
I am irreparable.

I am lost.

I am every child that was ever taken too soon from the breast of its mother.
I am every girl who's innocence was shredded by greedy hands and hungry mouths.
I am every pill I ever lined up and swallowed in the hope of sating the voice that begged for my passing.
I am every whiskey I ever chased into oblivion with another...and another ....and another.

I am all these things

and yet

I am hope
I am beauty
I am laughter
I am free.
I am honesty
I am belief
I am truth.
I am.
I am worthy...
I. am. worthy.
I am healing.
I am loved.
Finally.

Lost without hope, what do you expect.
accept, the complex aspects of my regrets.
But I beg for more, I appreciate the lessons
from so many different aspects.  My two cents is starting to make sense, so these reality checks, is past tense. I move forward with a clear mind, no pretense. I listen and I learn, so my third eye being blind, is my strongest sense.

I can break my back to carve it
                                                       into the earth beneath.
                                                                                               I can float it across the clouds and sun, so it, the sky may repeat.
                  
                                                    
You, it has known
for centuries,                                                     inside you it will be,

                          And still, I cannot guarentee that you will see.