call to reaction

well i can see
your old notes
hidden underneath
those broken lines

a constant ramble
of mundane complaints
only to fall upon
rows of deaf ears

highlighted points
of intriguing tone
on scraps of paper
from closed laundromats

soon to be disregarded
with the rest of you
broken and belittled
in need of termination

like old transcripts
from post war hearts
will stop beating
once the horn sounds

southern belle

when you left
your heart was a mess
tied down to souls
with rusted hands
corroding with every
touch

then you flew
down to the sun
leaving most
with your true intentions
save for one
admirer

upon your return
companions confided
your secrets unto me
the mistakes you made
the tears you left
behind

to your true love
i spoke nothing of
your dishonesties
in weak moments
of drunken lust
sickened

now years gone by
i wonder do they know
the basis of your love
built on a covered well
echoing out to be heard by
no-one

as children play above
will the wood rot away
breaking under the weight
to reveal the past unknown
bringing it all tumbling
down



it was fear (in my youth)

it was when you told me
he locked you in a cage
made you bark
loud and constant
until you cried

but you continued

when he grabbed you
twisted your arms
pushed you against walls
leaving holes and bruises
darker then the old ones

but you continued

he degraded you
yelled at you
told you had no value
that your breath was wasted
to stop altogether

but you continued

he tied you up
smacked you around
cut lines on your body
let them heal
before cutting again

but you escaped

now years later

your face came to me
out on the crowded street
it was different then before
like it had overcome
the hardships of the past

that you told me of
when i was young and weak

speak up, elle

sometimes i just
can’t take
you seriously
it bothers me
walking around
the living room
back and forth
through my head
over and over
again and again
lost in a maze
continuously
fumbling
try to go down
under my own
tired frown
bringing me up
is easier said
than done
but if it
wasn’t worth
the trouble
it wouldn’t ever
be so much fun
to try and match
the same old
laugh you had
when you were young
and i was over
all you had to say
in the long part
of the shortest day
was that you had
the reason i should
stay, but it never came

tired anthem

stop handing out
your old misery
to me, i don’t want
it hanging around
me like some kind
of rare disease

been tired of
worn out sympathy
i hear, clogging up
both of my ears
scratching to get
it out of here

i’ve thought about
trying out empathy
i feel, it’s not
really for me
can’t even fake
my own feelings

i heard about
your new treachery
i think, it’s all
such a new thing
to go out and
ruin everything

singing all day
about the demise
come again, what
may pass down
through my hands
into your mind