I turned a page, and closed a book
I looked
The other way
And took a breath with only half duress
I took
And placed it on a shelf
And hid it half within a crook

I set the record still to hear
A tear
A growing hush
And with an ache for every damn mistake
I’m crushed
And here
I fail to ask myself
“How long until I disappear?”

But you return like echoes cast
A past
I can’t forget
A set of notes that lingers and evokes
For either what I’ve earned
Or what I’ve simply failed to ask

Yet every time I think I’m done
You’re gone
You’re far away
And I can breathe a sigh of some relief
I stay
I’m drawn
Compelled to thus return
As if a flower to your sun



Dead and cold
Is leaden, old,
In dread, I’m told
I’m led and sold
By this
Regret I hold

I persist…
A lifeless tryst
To end
Goodbye, Mistress
Should I insist
Of you
A final kiss
And if so…

Life is still,
Strife and ills:
Knife and pills…
Might just kill
The light I feel
Strike or heal
My heart
Just like you do


Sometimes I need to hurt myself to know
If any part of me is still alive
Or maybe just to know I can survive
Or that I have heart and when I’m cut there’s blood to flow
Or maybe I just like to play with knives

Sometimes I need to hurt you just to see
If any part of you was really there
Or maybe just to see what you can bare
Or if, when you get injured, you still bleed the same as me
Or maybe it’ll prove you really care

Sometimes I need to hurt so I can tell
If any part of me is really real
Or maybe just to see if I can feel
Or just to see how far away I am from being well
Or if there’s something left in me to heal

Sometimes I need to hurt and so do you
And maybe that’s the reason that we try
To see if we can make the other cry
Or maybe to connect through all the pain we’ve suffered through
Or maybe we just realized that bleeding out was faster than goodbye


I grabbed a tube of makeup
And I painted on a smile
And I asked you
Are you happy yet?
I let it fade a while
And I asked you
Am I happy yet?

I used a tattoo needle
Made it look like I was grinning
And I asked you
Are you happy yet?
Saw the ink was thinning
And I asked you
Am I happy yet?

I grabbed a rusty razor
Cut a mouth that’s always laughing
And I asked you
Are you happy yet?
Saw the scars were lasting
And I asked you
Am I happy yet?

I tried to say goodbye
And hold my tongue, and keep from asking
“If I leave
Will you be happy then?”
Hid the pain I’m masking
And I wondered
“When can I happy, then?”


Never shall you see me as a figure with a cape or shield
A hero saving broken shapes and forcing villainy to yield
A symbol on a chest
Deflecting bulllets more than any vest
A liniment…an anodyne…a bandage so the banes of life can heal

Never will you see me as a figure with a golden crown
A symbol pure and unbeholden to the woes that weigh us down
An emperor or king
Or just a leader with a fancy ring
A monarch…or a herald…or a soldier that could ever save the town

Never shall you see me as an emblem of a holy light
A person hopeful and consoling alway om the path of right
An emblem of belief
Or a redeemer of a flock or fief
A paladin… protector…ever watchful of the evil in the night

Never will you see me as the person that you knew before
Beneath the sad conditions you would rather see as walls than doors
A loyalist to fault
Whose fragile heart is sealed within a vault
A hermit…wearing many flaws…but dear, they’re just a different shade than yours.


When I look your way, you seem to disappear
Smoke behind a looking glass
And though I feel, with certainty, I’m capable of looking past
The little flecks of dreams denied
Behind the you I deemed implied
The vision that I see is never truly crystal clear

When I see your face, it’s not the one I knew
Lips a very different shade
A smile of decisions and of choices that you swiftly made
A secret that you kept inside
And made of tears you never cried
I seem to only ever truly see the sun in you

When I try to hear your voice, it seems to fade
Tone and timbre twisted out
And heard as if a sermon offered sweetly from your lips devout
As if a leading hand, or guide
For you, the moon, and I the tide
An ocean made of us that we could never dream to wade

When I say your name, it’s with a jilted sigh
Broken into small degrees
And nothing like the words that, once upon a time, I called with ease
A signature of “Well, I tried…”
But ink within the well has dried
And faded are the letters kept,
And all of them are missing your reply


The silent place where shadows sift
Through dust of ours in caverns clearly sealed
Where the motes of meaning seem to settle less than drift
As if defiant of the thoughts they might reveal

With eyes upon a picture blank
Where once, I could have sworn, an image was
Seems now an empty ocean, all the memories have sank
As if the sun into the night – it always does

The places left to see are lost
Beneath the precipice of what’s to come
For waves or recollection are now wearing sheets of frost
Until the many roads reduce to only some

With knuckles white as winter storms
Where nothing seems to indicate a choice
So do I sit in silence, as I seem to listen for
A past reminder of your once forgiving voice