Tell me, Mr. Mrs. Muse.
Tell me.
I know you want me to dream.
You want me to dream my dreams
and foul dreams
You want to torture me with what I don't have, and can't have.
Well, may the bloody sky bloody drench you, Mr.Mrs.Muse.
That's all I have to say about you.
Oh yes, and I hate you.
I hate your smile and your gghastly nails that shred me apart when I only desire to stay together for those who care about me.
I am cared about.
Do you hear, o foul one?
They Care about me!
Stuff that down your dark, strangled throat.
Cram that into that deranged mind of your devilishness.
I BLOODY WELL DON'T CARE.

If the answer were a kiss,
always a kiss
I would have kissed over a hundred times already:
If kisses could cure tears
and hurts
and betrayal
and loss
and shame
and despair
I would kiss until my lips felt numb.
I would kiss them all.
All of them.
If kisses could heal. . . .

I would kiss you all
just to watch the pain lines vanish.
All I want is for your pain to leave.
please.
let me smooth the lines.
I -- can't bear your pain.
Let me take it,
let me break it into a thousand shards --
they'll turn to butterflies and fly away,
you'll see.

It's all i've wanted.
Let me take away your pain.
Let me take it away.
I can't bear to watch you hurt.
Please.

I f it makes you happy I don't care if you leave forever --
just -- be happy.
Leave your pain behind.
I'll turn it into butterflies.

Too much to say.
I don't want to speak.
I've never wanted to speak,
but what can I do with what I know?
Important.
IMPORTANT.
The word screeches through my mind,
scraping through tissue till blood falls in ringlets when i'm silent.
Important, it screeches.
Share.
SHARE.
What use is this knowledge if it's not shared,
and those who would've benefitted from knowing!
You've hurt them.
Speak or torture.
My fault, mine.
I'll speak.
Listen.

Open, my heart cries,
and I beat at your doors with raw fists.
Open, please.
You don't know what you do.
Live, please, live.
Open your doors.
Let me in, open them and you'll see these doors should have been opened long ago.
See the world,
it's colors.
They're flashing by you,
and you can't see
because you've barricaded yourself in here.
Open and feel.
I'll call you; follow.
One name, two names.
Follow the sound of my voice through your darkness.
Follow the sound.

Please.
I can't bear to watch you stumble.

If i could. . . .
take away my eyes.
I'd feel my way through the world.
I'd touch your faces and smile to know you were there.
I'd play the piano with ears and fingers
feeling the way,
like I've always done.
I know you'll be the best lover, better than any I'll have.
Music, twisting me this way and that,
contorting yourself into a perfect harmony of my sin and salvation.
Wrapping around me in the perfect embrace.
When the shadows come, I know that a frolic across the keys
a fragrance a snatch of melody can light the way.
I follow it back to you.
All the time.
Little do you know,
that's what has kept me sane.
When I can't scream, the music screams for me,
and when the music can't scream,
I scream for it.
You'll hear me,
bestial and lost --
tuneless and clawing
in nights when there's nothing but silence.
When the music has lost it's voice, and
I've found mine.
Other nights you'll hear the music.
It soars and screeches and sings.
In and out weaving.
Thoughts.
Feelings.
Despair.
And Hope.
Where were you? It wails in discordnant clusters
and crush chords.
It laughs bitterly in mournful g minor.
Where were you?
Then sunshine floods back in.
We can't stand the darkness.
C major.
A minor.
F major.
G major.
C major.

C-E-G-B.

"It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right.
I hope you have the time of your life."

Here I am.
Where are you?
The rain is drenching my shoes,
but not my hair,
because today I remembered my umbrella.
I'll wait in the rain
long after my nose begins to sniffle
long past when my cheeks flush red with the cold,
and if you take too long
I'll pray that death come swiftly with the next passing headlamps,
because i'll have lost faith that you'll return.