Life is comparable to a book
Which would make today a page
Don't dream of the drama unfolding
Act it out upon the stage
If the stage is your lonely room
And the theatre is your home
Then why not be the protagonist
Heroes never die alone
If you are treading those boards tonight
Then be careful how you go
Show the world and open your mind
To learn things that remain unknown
And if you are the director
Make sure the cast know their lines
If their actions stray away from the plot
Then cast them out of your life
If you are seeking attention
Awaiting ovation from the stalls
Be sure to do something worthy
Before the last curtain
She made hot chocolate that morning -
the kind that sticks to the mug
and burns -
and baked an apple cobbler,
deep dish warm with butter and fruit,
for the prodigal had returned.
She turned out the sheets
on his bed
and hung his jeans
out to dry -
the bright flag of denim
announcing his return
to everyone on the street.
Slowly the neighbors trickled in
to wonder and gape -
offerings of spiced ham
and ale, brown bread with raisins
and freshly knitted socks and mufflers
in soft merino shades -
all bundled as if in tribute.
They wanted to see
if he could still sing Amazing Grace
in his fine tenor voice
and drink the men
My Beautiful Filth:
We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...
Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force
And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivance
Where Angels Play:
A lonely spark appears before me tonight
amongst the struggles deep inside of me...
Should I give in, will I breathe in?
How much more can I be forced to take
before my soul breaks?
Shards crashing into me
letting me know I am alive
If only
I am barely breathing...
The moon lights my pathway
deep in dark, where we will fade
I've walked past the archway
Where angels will play...
The warmest touch, upon my skin
Wings that glow with sacred light, from deep within
They have come to take me back, to where I've been
Gone away into the winds, my voice forever lingering
Do I alone escape this and find my peace
wi
We were found in a pool of blood
Starcrossed lovers in each others arms
Suicide note in your pocket
Your hand grasped tightly in my palm
You were wearing that red dress
Under your overcoat
The rain had fallen hard that day
Distorting the words which you'd wrote:
'Dear cruel world and everyone within
I am leaving you all today
With the only boy I have ever loved
Lay silent here next to me
Nobody understands me
Or heals my wounds like he does
He feels the pain and sadness too
and I think we have suffered enough
No tears should be shed on our passing
As our souls now reside as one
Look for us in the rain dew
Look for us in the