my father told me
to just come home
once i hit my
breaking point

how do i explain to him
that i don't have a breaking point?

my body will twist and turn
it will boil and bubble from
the inside out but i will
not break and my lungs
will scream for air my
heart tied together with
knots and crosses my hair
falling away in the air
that just isn't enough for me
to breathe

how do i tell him that
my sadness will keep growing
until i am dead and that
there is no 'point' at which it will
be 'bad enough' for me to say
'i give up- take me home'
there will be no point because
father, i will tell him,
father, you raised me as a fighter,
and i do not know how to give up
not when it is the smart option
not when it is the only option
i am not one who gives up and that
is both stupid and deadly but
i know myself to know that i will
stay and stay and stay till it was
far past time to leave
that is why i loved the boy
who wrote poetry on me with a blade
and that is why when he told me he'd **** me
i still stayed
i don't know how to let go
of places or people or things
i don't know how to give up
on ideas or love
that is why
when the nurse asks me
how bad the pain is
on a scale of 1-10
i will always say
something along the lines
of 5
even with a broken spine
and a dislocated skull
i will tell her the pain is 5
because i do not know
what my 10 is
where do i stop to say
this
this is
enough

father, when you tell me to come home
when i've had enough
know that i do not know what 'enough' is
i have always been trying to be 'enough'
i always want to give more than 'enough'
but this strange place called 'enough'
has never been home to me

i'll fight till my
anxiety ties around my neck
and i am blue in the face
purple fingertips
and yellow eyeballs
i'll fight until my
depression creeps into the
veins of my bloodless body
and soars through them
mercilessly
i'll fight until
you put the last of the dirt
upon my fractured grave
because death always came easier
than ever saying
i give up

Carved David out of marble
What else could Michel do
Searching for an angle
Immortalizing you

Did the same with Elvis
He too was a king
We put him in velvet
David in a museum

Where we keep him under guard
For all the world to see
Take all the pictures that you like
But no autographs if you please

Elvis on a pedestal
Amid the screams and crys
Kept his fame though lost his way
Where alone he died

David fiddled around with sling shots
Elvis sang and played guitar
One relaxed on roof tops
The other bought people cars

These are different days
Those were different times
Both of these men caved
To sin in their lives

Man can succumb to pressure
When given everything
A show of pain and pleasure
A tale of 2 different kings

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head