There is something within me
something I cannot say
the song of my soul steps forward
but I cannot translate it today

This song moves within me,
of love and choice and grief,
it stabs and bleeds my mind,
a sword without a sheath

The song of my soul is true
each of us finds it in time
yet until that fateful day
this poet struggles with her rhyme

How strange it is of life
to love with no love in turn
How strange it is of life
that a cold shoulder can burn
How strange it is of life
that you bring a tear to my eye
How strange it is of life
that you let me pass you by

You and I were the tree and the vine,
I was yours and you were mine.
I often felt that I was the tree,
for all the roots that came under me.
You were the vine, beautiful and light;
I loved you best for never clinging too tight.
You said that all along it was I who clung,
and then and there something died where I hung.
This tree of mine had changed its leaves,
and grown contempt within its eaves.
And I, the vine and parasite
was bid a prompt and cold goodnight.
By the time I fell to the forest floor,
life as I knew it was no more.

And yet again, I care too much.
It burdens my shoulders
and suffocates me everyday.
Thoughts of everyone, everything,
efforts to remember,
it has consumed me
as would a storm.
To think that they-even you,
never wanted me,
it was always her.
Compare us
and I will always come up short.
And? I shouldn't even care.
It is dangerously shallow water to swim in;
but I cannot yet let it go:
I wish terribly to be
just one person's first choice.

Tonight, love holds me.
Tonight love pours out of me
as wine into a glass
before an anxious eye.
I have enough love for all
I can rain it down from the sky.
Tonight, if you find yourself
without love you can share mine.
If you find yourself adrift at sea
I will cast you out a line.
Tonight, love holds me.

You are quite a gifted surgeon.
In fact you cut me so clean and sharp
I barely even knew it at the time.
Waking the next day in my hospital bed
was where I met my pain.
Being with you was like anesthesia:
I was so grateful for you to help me.
You were the one who weakened me.
My senses failed: your scalpel cut
clean to the core, and then I just let you
sew me back together. The nurses say
I am very lucky, that I had a good doctor.
I know better. I was once a person and
now I am Sally Stitches, or better yet, Raggedy Ann.
I am no one's operation game.
Letting you in brings only stitches and needles,
and it was I who checked myself in.
I need to learn to stitch myself at home.
Consider this my checking out.

I am the last soul in the universe,
sailing a ship that will find no shore.
The souls that came after me are no longer,
as are the ones that came before.
The sea around me is a dark abyss,
and the island I seek, a star.
Here I am the loneliest soul in the cosmos,
dreaming I am watched from afar.
I built this ship of shadows,
and hoisted sails from fallen dreams.
I am the last captain of the stars,
praying darkness is more than it seems.