A quick riff off of the most recent Title Salad, a writing exercise, if you will π ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dearest me, I found a place where nothing needs me. I think I might stay. I cling to the back of my eyelids My sweet refuge, familiar and fine With a thousand small pieces of something I feel certain had once been mine Fraying threads that once held me together Tiny knots pulling looser each day And the spaces between them are growing Empty thoughts that insist they won't stay I thought my ears would find thunder When the last little filament broke But the lingering echo, so hollow Broke the spell Keeping me And I woke This is not an ordinary thing A needle in the dream A tangled mess of bindings Too tired to hold me in Let the light shine where it pleases Let my thoughts shuffle and break I have carried enough of the world Let me choose this road I take. Shining gold in the cracks of my fingers The same gold running under my skin Every fracture I've carefully mended Every question a burden within Which of all of these shining divisions Had been broken and which had been made? And I wonder if something is missing Or if this is the shape that remains I can hold my hands up to the daylight And watch all the bright little seams Gleaming beautiful I know they are beautiful. But now I'm tired of being seen. Maybe it's an ordinary thing Shining through the pain Imagining an audience Drying out beneath the rain Let the light shine where it pleases Let my dreams wither and fade I have carried enough of the world Let me lay In this bed I've made There's a comfort amidst all the clutter There's a stress to it all just the same A dark fear as I open the shutters A dark window, a mirror of shame But a shimmer reminds me I'm healing A gold thread stitching tight to my skin A dull glimmer of hope in the moonlight This oppression made fragile and thin I can paint a new world with my music I can write a grim sonnet or three I'm not beautiful I know I'm not beautiful. But the world Still needs To see (Me)
