It ruined my life
And shattered my bones, *******
Let me go, oh love.

We used to have a larger group
Ten thousand head at best
Once we had the largest herd
Of Longhorn in the west

But, times got tough, we sold a few
There was the drought back in '11
I didn't know it got so bad
But, now....we're down to seven

Yep, seven steers and cows and calfs
Out standing in our field
There's not a lot of meat out there
It's really a poor yield

The Longhorns down in Texas
Took our football tickets back
They said that our best looking cow
Was like a blanket on a rack

We've done our best to make amends
We'll be on top once more, I'm sure
But, we have to keep the calfs all fed
Or else ....we're down to four

There's lots of land for them to graze
They'll grow big, I am assured
But, now I find it difficult
To call seven head...a herd

Can I just say
***** you for alwasy leaving me
to question things?
To wonder what the heck will come of you and me?
What in Hell
made you think it was okay
to treat me like I was just a game
a fragile heart created for your play?

***** you
for leaving me blaming myself
***** you
for leaving me to worsen my own health.

And I know it's unfair for me to blame you.
You were young too
and I know you didn't know what on earth to do
about the days that my heart was soaking more in black than blue.

But I think that it was you
that handed me the dye.
You brought back the hate
and allowed me paint
the black abyss
in which
I sunk deeper
with all your lies.

And you try to come back
just when I've creawled out
like a slap
to the face,
a silent shout
into the void,
the abyss, a vaccuum
muting all noise.

And thank goodness for that.
the silence
because you can't take back
all of your lies
and I can't take
any more of your bull

It seems even when I'm finally over you, you come back like a bull, and I'm wearing red.

In the crowded glass market

I become the bull

Before the bull

I the man

Before the man

I the child

The child accidentally destructive

Treads on the unknowing in the glass of doubt

Doubting the man

Who himself is encased in that same doubt

The man wondering how to be the man himself

The adult that gets pushed from his teen years

To the years of a young adult

Currently the currency of work inspires to aspire

But the dilemma of a wage so minimum

The quiet noises he makes to not wake the lion

To venture past the lions

From the glass that he did not break

To that walk ahead

But that walk

Can get lonely

People seemingly there

But the morphed man eyes not tuned to reality

Doubtingly

What can it do for a man

The man

Whose trying to become a man

Just to walk through the consuming circle

Waiting for the red

Before the strife

Take his life

Run past the lions screaming

And in the glass market
I become the bull

Blue clouds and soft notes and fingers down my spine,
The wood grain looks like thick rain and your taste is fine (so fine.)
Let the wind blow wherever I go, I’ll lead you where it’s safe.
On the long grass, off the stone path, we will wander until it’s late.
You will hold me up, by the bull’s horns, by the headstrong heat in me,
I will push back, until you realize I am trying to make you make me bleed.
Ghosts will skip out from the closet, try to play with you and me.
Skeletons will rise out their graves, try to trick you so you leave.
I am so afraid of you but if you leave, I will cry (cry, cry, cry.)
But if you walk out, I will lose it, I’ll join those skeletons and die.
Hold my gold ring, while I go sing, kiss the doctor under your nose.
Don’t get mad, dear, this is poetry, you’ll know we’re real when it’s prose.
I saw an alien in my bed once, he whispered the secret of life.
He told me life is but a chess game and love is but a knife.