3:03 pm / Sunday, Jul. 26, 2009
space is not something I need.
Unless it's a space in which to sing
where the acoustics hear my low notes as
well as my highs
where I can close my eyes and just wail
like the siren I cry for.
You told me you didn't want to be alone
but You lied.
You told me you would heal what was broken
but instead you turned my stress fractures into
and my sinews rotted from your sugar
sweet portrayal of "woman"
So now I'm bones: all crazyglued together
like slipshod Lincoln logs
in the daycare room-- it's naptime
and all the toys remain
scattered across the floor
in landmine formation.
You mistook me for someone who could let go.
You mistook me for someone you wanted
not someone you were willing to love.
But your idea of love is sacrifice--
that which I could make for you.
You were the prize and I was the winner--
that's not respect it's trickery,
where you're the bribe
and the blackmail.
But you were never willing to give,
I had to beg
and when I did you
told me to walk away.
where is that crutch you promised me?
in that song you sang so sweetly--
lured me to your shore
only to employ my admiration for a moment
then push me through your mother's door.
Like the day I realized I wanted to say
"I love you"
must forgotten that the way I love is equal and open.
it's not to be left unspoken.
You bruised me.
twisted and misconstrued me,
and finally refused me.
I would give you eight thousand second chances.
and still not deny you.
I would give you everything you
didn't even ask for--
and still feel selfish
because your love is all I need.
But I shouldn't have had to
ask for you to love me.
I shouldn't have had to ask you to
want me, dear.
If ONCE you had told me you cared--
I wouldn't have needed to hold you so near.
I don't need space.
But I would have given it to you--
if you had learned how to share.
so go ahead--
stand up tall
an emotionless pillar
of carbon and salt.
And sing out those songs to sailors in the water--
but remember when they come
and crash upon your shore
you can't break eight thousand hearts
just to write eight thousand chords.