But Why

the way the light scatters to create The perfect pattern of me, a rainbow of deceit impressive shine, obsessive guilt

distant view, envy-filled

-s's.

if my thoughts had hands they would strangle me,

Tightly, entangling, but not before they reach for you and you would be the first thing they’d hold onto

-s’s.

no, you don't understand me

no, you're not even trying

so leave what promises you sought

behind

there's nothing left there

to justify

Walt Whitman

Why don’t we just set off? nothing we do will be enough.

if you ever were the real deal

Then I would have known it by now 

Your nightmare, it will haunt

Never seemed like me, never indeed 

one lifeless dream, one breath ceased, empty

since what went by was a lonely thing

and it never occurred to anybody

of what it could be and how it would leap

over there. over your head and into nothing

the abyss? is that nothing?

the cliffs? the subtle seas,

the long hard work days, the days when the sky is heavier

and it comes down to crush the rocks

the mountains too

I watch as they'd compress, it'd never occurred to anybody else

-s's.

my songs are going to come true

and one by one, each one of you, too,

Try to relinquish my thoughts, but what would that do?

a songstress with something on her mind,

and nothing to fall on top of behind,

trying to patch things that never were, or never was

doesn't matter if it never takes off

because all of this will always be enough.

To protect me from piracy,

this ocean was diamond-cut sharp with danger

where waters will sting you mercilessly,

don't let me jump either

-s's.

I don't know why, but

at least it comes in time

the bittersweet feeling of your feet walking away at dawn

picked it as a muse,

When you used to talk about art

And what it made you want to do

-s’s.

/I want.../(porcelain clash)/

I want to do what I used to do last

kept once, stored up, among the cupboard's real glass stash

(a porcelain clash)

must recover, carried to a glowing life bed