We cannot prevent people from falling in life
Blinded by our own salted skin and crunching bones
And only notice the wounds on someone's face
when they knock on our door
and ask if they can borrow a plaster

I can only watch you with deep s y m p a t h y
when your scarred heart gasps for breath
if only I can heal your p a i n
if only I could catch you whenever you fall
but I'm just another helpless creature
expecting myself to be m o r e
and guilt appears faster than rain on car windows
and my heart goes up in the flames of grief
the guilt grows damp before my eyes
plasters do not heal w o u n d s
want to bury them deep down with me
your misfortunes are mine
My crooked heart knitted to y o u r s
And I just want to say that I'm really sorry
for letting you f a l l
I should've hold your hand more tightly
I couldn't swim and you jumped in

                                                             ­                  and I couldn't s a v e you

we always know everything afterwards
so we cannot prevent our people from falling
We can run as fast as we can
but time is faster than realization

                                                    ­              We are either  d e a d  or  l a t e.

just because you can't see the stars it doesn't mean they're not shining.

dear dreamcatcher,
i thought you were supposed
to take away the nightmares
not get them *out of my head
and *into my life

I became a criminal when I fell in love.
Before that I was a waitress.

I didn't want to go to Chicago with you.
I wanted to marry you, I wanted
Your wife to suffer.

I wanted her life to be like a play
In which all the parts are sad parts.

Does a good person
Think this way? I deserve

Credit for my courage--

I sat in the dark on your front porch.
Everything was clear to me:
If your wife wouldn't let you go
That proved she didn't love you.
If she loved you
Wouldn't she want you to be happy?

I think now
If I felt less I would be
A better person. I was
A good waitress.
I could carry eight drinks.

I used to tell you my dreams.
Last night I saw a woman sitting in a dark bus--
In the dream, she's weeping, the bus she's on
Is moving away. With one hand
She's waving; the other strokes
An egg carton full of babies.

The dream doesn't rescue the maiden.