Today I was told a story
Of a little child and her bird
And of how she had a string
That she tied to its leg
Every time she let the bird go
It would start to fly away, thinking it was free
But she would always pull the bird back,

And the bird never learned
So it kept trying to fly away
Hoping one day his wish would come true

I feel like the bird
Always trying to be free
But being pulled back by some force that I have yet to discover

Maybe the bird always knew
That he would die in the child's hands

Just like I know
That I will keep trying,
Trying to fly away
Even if my string is pulling me back

I walked in blind –
yet all I find
Is a gaping hole
In my heart.

I jumped in fast –
and all I asked
Was that you wouldn’t
leave me scarred.

I leapt in trust –
that there was still us.
Guess I wasn’t
smart enough.

Turn the page,
Words of rage;
I'm on the wrong
side of broken,
and you put me here,
but I chose to stay.

I want to blame you,
Hate you, but I can't shame you;
There's something in the mirror,
it's slowly becoming clearer,
you're my highest low, my trigger.

I wish we'd never met,
You're my living hell;
torturing my heart now a shell,
harsh words from the man that
once loved you without fail.

You're a seven year wound,
I can't figure out how to forgive,
this bitterness is a wickedness
brought to the surface by wordless rage.
I hate you.

Yet I still love you,
at least the memory of you;
before you changed,
personality rearranged,
I loved you as you were.

The ones hardest to love
Are the ones that need it most;
you rejected mine and buried your own,
carried us to the gravestone,
are you alone tonight?

The love turned to ache,
when you chose to forsake
me to my demons within;
do you think of me still,
or am I just a speck of your past?

I loved you.
I hate you.
And I don't know how to let go.

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

Do you know that smell that some books have?
The smell that takes you straight into the world in the ink?
Something between smoke and wood chips?
The smell of what music would smell like?
That smell the one of the farthest back shelf in the library?
The one where it smells like the hands of those who’ve loved it?
Do you know that smell that some books have?
The one that can take you anywhere in the world?
Any time, anyplace, with any person, of any race?
The smell of fresh printers ink and ancient paper?
Do you know that smell?