Aki for Autumn,
Haru for Spring.
I hate karaoke,
Because I can't sing.

I think I will rot.
Maybe I will not.
There isn't any air,
My head feels hot.

I would like to ask,
Do you feel as lonely as I?
In melancholy we shall bask,
Quietly contemplating under a gray sky.

I feel like singing.
My heartbeat is stinging.
The dull mirth fading,
My subtle song thinning.

I would like to ask,
Do you feel as quiet as I?
In burnt kerosene we shall bask,
Quietly suffering until we die.

I’ve met a person yesterday
someone I’ve known for a year.
We shared our memories and pondered over our fears
In those drunken talks, I discovered a soul
A soul so natural and beautiful.

Even the air between us was drunk that night
It swayed here and there carrying tales dark and bright
Tales buried under layers of flesh
And tales forgotten, on the brink of death

She was happy, she was smiling as the stories came alive
and told me how she carelessly stargazed in the middle of a long drive

I then realized that all of us have songs to croon,
Some arching those lips and some with a sad tune
And in this world of broken vases and wilted flowers
singing is what keeps us alive.

i dread the day
where i will have to whisper a wrong-feeling goodbye into your arms
we aren't meant for this fate
though we knew it would end this way
from the beginning
it never felt right
no
we were meant to orbit each other forever
we will dance in the stars
forever
in loving memory
of the times we danced and sang together
on earth

I saw you standing, dressed to ****.
Perhaps waiting for someone to tell you of her thrill--
the thrill that you give, when you start to sing.
I should’ve told you then that I’d been listening.
I’d just started to listen, just begun to catch the fire;
it wasn’t until later that I burned with desire.
Then I fell for you, I fell for you deep.
You’ve been playing with my mind; you’ve been visiting my sleep.
I wish I’d told you then, that I’d give you anything;
though nothing I could give you, would equal what you bring--
what you bring to me nightly, what you touch in my core.
When you’re next in town, go out the back door.
I’ll show you the stars,  I’ll show you the lights;
I’ll give you what you crave at the  end of the nights.
I’ll tell you of my dream, I’ll tell you of my vision,
then I’ll worship at the altar of my one true religion.

my chest is an aviary,
hundreds of caged birds
flutter and shudder and whistle
soft songs and incomprehensible words.

my ribs as bars,
and my heart as feed,
and the birds all hum,
and we all have needs,

including birds, including me,
digging my hands, into my chest,
they peck at me, my insides,
to rip me open, we try our bests--

i scream and writhe and cry and whine--
i tear and pull and carve and break--
they sing and sing and sing and sing--
half-gored, i give in, stop, shake--

an albatross in my chest cavity,
the canaries' screaming pitch remains,
the robins and bluejays and wrens and larks,
all choir my unending pain.

i want to be free of them,
and them, of me,
but my ribs are bars, and my heart is feed,
and in my chest they will always be.