some people ask me why you
why you of all people
i give them answers
but i am only entertained with more questions, as if i've never said anything
it then hits me that it's quite possible that only i can understand these things

apparently only i can understand that your presence is enough of a reason for me to keep living life the way it is
only i can understand that your smile is more than a gleam of light, it is hope that making people happy can go a long way
your smile is external and internal proof that i can actually be a good person

they'll never understand that i see your talent
they'll never understand that i see more than that

you're an amazing dancer, but they never got to see the passion that built the amazing dancer you are
they never saw you with sweat trickling down your face because you never got that one move down
they'll never see the times you strained yourself stretching to inhumane lengths just to achieve the acquired flexibility

and your voice
they hear it, they hear how beautifully you pull off each note
but will they ever hear the times your voice was hoarse and nearly a whisper
they'll never know how much water you had to take in for the sake of clearing up your throat

they'll never know the underlying struggles
i like you but not just because you are you
i like you for how you've become you
i like how you're not just someone
i like how you're a story

and if it all goes well
i hope you like me enough to include me in your story

Why can't I sing like they do,
the way I'm supposed to?
There are a million melodies
trapped within me,
like golden dust of darkness
blazing with gilded sparks
in the depths of my bones.
I've had enough
of this wretched game,
where I follow the line
leading to the bullseye,
trailing steps bigger than mine
and falling into dusk
with nothing left in me.
It's time for me to open the doors,
for me to shine with a light
as bright as yours.
I can feel it in my chest
as it tries to force its way out,
craving the best
sounds I could make before,
when I was alone.
I need to sing like they do,
to sing like I'm supposed to.
I know within
that it's what I'm fated to do,
to consecrate this ground
with music only I can make.

There is a heavy insistence from those close to me that I'm better.
That this dip in my improvement is nothing more than temporary.
After all most flowers must wilt before they truly bloom.
But I am bitter, I feel nothing from these roots.
A shadow of years of practice.
I doubt that I am a necromancer and my talent is dying;
If I try to remain on this path I'll die a failure.
Maybe I should go against my goals for money or fame
Something I can grasp that won't pass through my fingers.
Baby steps towards a future I didn't prepare for but one I'll survive.

Hardened glue is in my brain
Stickily I play the game
Happy faces cause my pain
Gleeful as I rise to fame
Captured since they know my name

Tears in eyes slowly misting
I discover they are mine
All my dreams they are twisting
Throwing pearls before the swine
Stepping out, I toe the line

No, I won’t, not any more
Throw my talents to the ground
Calmly walking out the door
Heart is suddenly unbound
Swimming bravely to the shore
Feet are firmly on the floor

The musician

Long days yet never distracted...
Lost in thought for a vision...
Waking at the crack of dawn far to long...
Blank page no more..
Guitar in hand...
Oh how this woman amazes me ...
When her finger strum the chords...
Its like magic appearing...
And oh so endearing...  a
Music plays so softly, as she hums in her head ...
Her personality comes through in all Her work
God truly blessed her the peaceful Writer...

I am sick of being silenced
These chains wrapped around my voice won't break
By the time courage has woven around them
The words are lost and I have slipped into an anesthetic languor
I crave the feeling of the fire
But when I want it the flame is extinguished
And when it burns for me the chains snake around my brain and the words become jumbled
I have the fire in my heart and hands
But I no longer have the power to use them