-THE MASK-

Smiling in thunder, your astounding facade
You breathe then go under, you trip and you blunder
You paint your smile, your face is a mask
You hide what you are til i’m there then you crash
And you dance in your spotlight absorbing the stares
and they numb you and dumb you to insidious glares
And all the while you want me to be there,
to take it, remake it, and fake that you’re fair.
Who knew pearly whites hid a vampires bite
Slowly draining me night after night
Don’t tell me i’m wrong when you too aren’t right
And don’t expect me to return to the arms of a fight.
Dear pastor, in preaching, take your hands from your ears,
For my words are worthy and sound just as clear
Dont presume to know my thoughts behinds tears
Color me red and call me a rose, but don’t burst at the site
of the thorn when it grows.

…….

-EGO-

Poor baby, you’re waking; while this lady sits faking
sweet emotions in your direction, your reflection is grating
like the shrill sound of drilling, but still never filling emptiness
how silly is your willingness to toss aside fulfilling bliss
under the muse of some loose fuse that catches accidentally
and reduces you to a more useless you, incidentally
the words that you speak are curiously weak and seem
to lose their mystique once I realize how paralyzed
you’ve become. And i feel dumb. But no longer numb
and unfeeling I’ve spent my time grieving, then some
and I’ve let the lies you spoke in tongues, roll off my back
and burn in the sun. Speak in your language, your words
are your false reflection and I hope my inflection of your
deep-seeded deception will take hold and some conception
of your self-fulfilling loneliness, your unwilling parsimonious
attempt at restitution. I hope you’re content with soulless destitution,
it was your resolution.

…….

-TOUCH-

Oh words. The path that weight travels
to be lifted
from our shoulders and finally shifted
to the willing arm of a friend.
And do they know the help they provide
with intent ears and caring eyes?
These words that bear the bulk of burden
cannot be stored in a place and forgotten
they must be told, let out
and to breathe.
For sharing the weight sets a part of us free
again to swim in compassionate light
Those are our stories, that we whisper at night.
Oh wicked fear and repression know
that words and truth are your only foe
For in them lies a power untamed they
set the limits, they know the game.
Listen as words are spoken in breath
especially the ones that seem to be left
In our hearts and minds, where words are lost
but are spoken still
By actions and movement and expressed thought.

…….