What song my heart sings
Why I think of hearts I don't know
Who are you I yearn for
How you call to me in dreams
Where I'll lay if I don't find your lair
When I'll find the rest I need
Outcasts and a lost home
Sweet lord, sweet old chariots
coming to carry me home?
I belong not and I wish not to belong
Yet here I still dine with outcasts
But my mother’s house, on that hill afar
offers solace just to think of
And I reckon well, that my fellow outcasts
and I, will get seats near the fire
And tea and blankets, and our story enjoyed
Dreamers we’re cursed
For herein is a land of corruption limitless
Values lost hope is tiring. I see doom.
It’s barren over yonder as far as I throw eyes
Cry out and not even a whisper comes back
You’re alone darling, you’re alone
Soothe your own self and sleep long
slow scared love
The bottomless pit of your eyes calls to me
and the melody of your words stays with me
your movements around my body leaves marks
and I'll paint them in so they last forever
Every gaze you land on me,
makes my skin want out
and I'll let it if it joins with yours forever
hurt my life
Stick a worm in it
and dangle my heart above the fire
it won't catch an ember of flame
but a pungent smell I'll take away
for every experience you drag my skinned soul through, I curse at love
why I write
In my hand a pen
Knows my mind and heart
And when I find a paper
I pour tears till end
I was born with words in my hands
And put them down I will
When I grow trees for paper
And fingers for pens
My soul bubbles within
From rivers of unwritten thoughts
And live it does, waiting for my hands
To put them down
And when life threatens me
I live by the song of words unuttered
As of lately…..
You drew me raw on a broken canvas
and let my blood tell the story.
Cast me on the face of the sun where I remain pale and blue
Held my hand over the fire
and let my skin decide
Wrote spells on the walls of my heart
yet I crawl out of the dark corners of my mind on my own
And you kept me conscious through it all
fractured and chipped at
If I stab this giant of a hill, will it level to the ground and I balance
Falls from this high tend to leave me fractured and chipped at
Cold nights atop here are unbearable and me living through them is worrying
If I get my hands or a rope, I'm unsure if I'll swing down or climb higher
The peak of the climb getting sharper does not mean the end to me, just a swifter cut
Your unconcerned faces from down there aren't helping much
A match for my broken
I rode up the river, for you
Fearing being skinned by the dark
But I dared not be shy of it
Peering, I bore my bones to the force
Of you pushing me
Heavens I battled your naked sight
But my reckless gaze failed me
And looking through you,
I saw a brokenness I was nostalgic for
empty hands and bags of baggage
What made us into such wreckballs
watching our lives unfold into rhymes
we can't even utter
How do we wake up sane
and later scamper into our beds
like deranged hounds
Who lands crap balls onto our laps
and expects our knees to hold together
heap after heap
Why do we camp under the same blankets
that soak our tears every night
and repeat it every night
Where do we think we are going
with our blistered feet and broken spirits
and empty hands and bags of baggage?
Life’s all strange!
Familiar faces
Memories I don't remember creating
Sights not so strange Dreaming even after I wake
Being over there and here all at once
Not belonging but longing for the unknown
Living on the precipice of something untouchable Disconnected, connected and longing
Life's all strange!
Eunoia☀️ 