Forstalled

Reserve a place for me.

I have something I need to do,

But I'll be back in no time--

At least it will seem that way to you.

This is an unsung song.

Whispered tears went into its making.

The scream in my heart is caged,

But my smile's support beams are shaking.

I held my hand to the light

And its shadow fell hard on the wall.

My feelings only cast shadows

In my eyes when I'm hiding from all.

So I walk into the waters

Of the coldest lake I could find

And the bottom drags at my feet

Like the thoughts that I'm leaving behind.

I bend to touch the surface,

Cupping my hand like a leaf.

I scoop the sharp water and drink it,

And the action creates such relief.

The water has no color,

But all colors dance through it like friends.

And the black-and-white rainbows inside me

Are the meaning that God intends.

Shortly now I'll return

To the life I can barely survive,

I'll come back from the lake in no time--

Just allow me this one last deep dive.

Palindrome

Dry.

I am a cracked painting, brushed with grief.

Between my eyes there's a frown.

My retinas feel ready to crack open.

What have I done?

What have I seen?

There's nowhere left to lean

And no strength left to run.

At the edge of the crevasse, I tossed every rope in.

And with no direction left but down,

To fall would be relief.

Cry.

Blue Silk Songs

Silk is a voice

With blue undertones.

Music is a choice

For all the left-alones:

All the orphaned babies

The girls with no close friends

The dogs with chronic rabies

Men on roads with no ends.

A rose is a thorn

With alluring bait set;

The same disguise worn

By snakes out to get

The lost little children

And the souls who weep

Over bones that were killed when

The mountains were still steep.

Blue is a poem.

And Blue is a song

And a color to show 'em

Where they went wrong.