Sing me a song.
A song that lives in all the places I call home, the places no one
knows but me.
Make me hum the gay melody of a thousand piercing notes as it
carries me to the next verse of tears.
Make me sing as I walk down the aisle of all the places I have yet
to visit. Of all the souls penetrated within, I sing.
Let me play it over and over again, for it makes my person escape
the soiled spirit from which I have tasted the suffering.
Shelter me, my song, for I have to right my wrong. Though I
know she won’t believe me.
I see those shifty eyes hallucinate as they fail to sing a lullaby
aloud.
My song is for the heart, body, and place where it changes not a
person told.
The timing swims around my fate, as my heart is decorated with
mementos of you.
As you look at me, lamenting through different eyes,
I wonder…where do I end up?
The bottomless chasm probably knows best how I feel lighter by
the second.
My beaten spirit dials from within but hears no answer.
It inauspiciously lingers about as the signal fades handsomely into
dark history.
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