brow creases lightly
piano sings a soothing song -
fingers in their turf.

i want someone to notice the way i laugh at the wrong parts of movies
and know what weird thought i had about the scene
to hold my hand and kiss my dimple and write about how witty i am
we can joke about it every time we rewatch it

i want someone to read to me under a fading sky in the wintertime
as our breath curls around our throats and it's hard to keep their voice steady
but the words are pretty, and so are their fingers as they wrap around my hair
sylvia plath for the darker days,
robert frost when the sun starts peeking through

i want someone who will dye my hair in shades of pink and green
our noses curling at the scent of the overwhelming bleach
laughing hysterically as we get high on the fumes and try to be quiet when we hear my mom's footsteps outside the bathroom
i'll cut their bangs choppy to match

i want someone who will sing duets with me to a blown out car stereo
as we drive aimlessly through the nights of this ghost-town-to-be
i'll steal the aux cord more than once, and mess with the windows like a kid
but they'll tolerate it because they like the wind
almost as much as they like me

i want someone to dance with me in the rain like we're in a bad romance novel
and enjoy it anyway because it smells like promises (and i keep those)
we can waltz badly and laugh until it hurts to laugh, and then we'll just sway
i'll splash them with puddles and they'll splash back harder
and we can ditch our clothes and get hypothermia together

maybe one day i'll want them enough to have them

but for now i'll watch movies by myself and still laugh at all the wrong parts, knowing that i'm weirdly clever

i'll read poetry in my own voice under the grey sky cut open by leafless branches, because it's pretty

i'll dye my own hair and cut my own choppy bangs and i'll feel untouchable

i'll scream 'bohemian rhapsody' by myself driving down main street in the middle of the night

and i'll just wait for it to rain so i can catch in my mouth and pretend it was a kiss from the sky

Loosen your

Chains,
Brains,
*****,

Your vowels
And your bowels

She speaks in cherry red
Prunus cerasifera
He whispers falling leaves
Amongst the diving wrens.
Happy tears shed every morning
Before the Lyrebird sire
Starts his lone choir

Ashen pine blue, flame trees
Quiet illumination
Sensual body of Autumn

Deep in my heart,
There's a crow who sings
Songs of love
For his darling wife.
Their love lives on
In my fragile heart.
Though he's mute
To others around,
he is headstrong
And keeps me moving.
He's quiet still,
Recalling the
Memories of the past
When his wife
Still walked the earth-
Before you
Killed her with your words.

My words are sharp like stings of bees in spring,
But I will die lastly when I shall sting.
I have become a nightingale right now,
To only sooth the hearts, I now shall sing.

Lord I’m tired, Lord I’m weary and my soul is yours to keep!
Lord I’m tired, Lord I’m weary but my soul is yours my soul is weak!
I’ve been hitting on the drink, taking drugs, ******* women lord and fighting in the clubs.
I got two arms, I got two legs, I got a body lord, and I got a head,
That makes me human, that makes me human, that makes me human lord, but that an’t kind!
That makes me human, that makes me human, that makes me human lord, but that an’t kind!
I like to think that’s there’s a light, in the deepest darkest night,
Somewhere I might lay my head and not wake up cold and dead,
Somewhere I’ll find peace of mind some place lie paradise,
Do you hear?

𝄆   suffer  |  survive  |  sing   𝄇

isn’t it beautiful that our first reflex when listening to music is to replicate that tune,


with the same throats that are tired of speaking we try to make art