It echoes like the pulse within a heart that’s meant to swoon
And like a swell, a storm in hell
When, slowly, bells and angels fell
As if a cracked and cold bassoon it was
…And always is too soon

As if a song so violent that it cannot help but croon
And what is done are merely crumbs
When all the sums are one or none
And oaken hearts are sadly hewn because
…They couldn’t play the tune

On strings they never meant to play for ears that seem immune
Where, to the songs, we sing along
Where nights are long and hope is gone
And love has leaned into impugn where flaws
…In deserts, seem as dunes

And walking far away from fields we’d threaded like a loom
We, looking back, into the black
We slowly crack from what we lack
And tell ourselves we’re meeting noon’s applause
…With these, our liquid bleeding wounds



I wonder if it slips
The fragile mask of you
That scale of two
Where weights are always shifting
And the parting of your lips
Are but the pieces left when sifting
Through the wreckage of the ships
You left behind when sailing through
A sea I see was never blue
And never new

I painted scenes of woe
On canvases of trust
Without a brush
In shades forever showing
Me the colors left below
But never ever truly knowing
If I see what isn’t so
Beneath the edges of disgust
For there’s so much left undiscussed
If only just

I wonder why I wait
As if, just like the sun
You’ll simply come
To me, with fears abating
With a key for every gate
And with a smile, simply stating
It was all a big mistake
And that I didn’t see you run
From what I am and what I’ve done
And have become

But here I seem to stay
Like canvases forgot
An item bought
And left here slowly graying
In your attic, tucked away
And on my knees, forever praying
Maybe this’ll be the day
But then we both know that it’s not
I’m just a fly the spider sought
And cruelly caught


Everybody loves it when you smile
No one ever wants to see you cry
So dry your eyes in secret
Dig a hole of sweet denial
And pretend your world of woe is apple pie

Everybody loves it when you’re pretty
No one wants your ugliness around
So hide your every blemish
Show the world you’re always witty
And conceal your cuts and bruises with a gown

Everybody loves it when you’re laughing
No one ever wants to hear you scream
So paint a perfect smile
One that’s made for photographing
When you tell the world that life is but a dream

Everybody loves it when you’re funny
No one ever wants you to complain
So let them see you chuckle
With a disposition sunny
And inject your breaking world with novacaine

Everybody loves it when you’re lying
No one wants the pain that truth asserts
So keep it all a secret
Like the tears that you’ve been crying
Because no one wants to know how much it hurts


Beyond the sorrow strewn
Like pebbles on a path of poison
Stretching out and ever on as if a melancholic tune
Beset with lamposts made of noise when
All the light of day allowed is what’s reflected by the moon

Were echoes made of you
A tide of soft reverberations
Building towers of elan above a world of morning dew
And painted in consideration
By the warmest of confessions given only to a few

As if a window sealed
So long ago by ancient curtains
You had pulled aside and saw, did I, the vision you revealed
That seemed to pale beneath your worth in
Every way that I could quantify and so I chose to kneel

And try to put in words
That you were loved and you were missed when
You departed, you were silent, you could hear, but weren’t heard
It meant the world that you would listen
Knowing well you offered bandages for injuries you never could have cured



Words can hurt as much as heal
Convey the pain and pride you feel
Or else, your courage, they can steal
Defend or decimate what’s real

Words withheld can mollify
Or make us think it’s all a lie
Or leave us lost when asking why
And silence is the one reply

Words we offer mean as much
As any reassuring touch
As any fist or broken crutch
As any promise that we clutch

Words refused are like a thirst
That leaves us dying, cold and cursed
And begging that you just converse
For otherwise we oft assume the worst