I can't scratch the feelings from my chest on to paper
and release myself from all the thousand tears
tearing at my throat hoping to be flooded out.
I cant convince heaven to intervene swiftly
and with great change
I only see the tiny impairments to reality
and the small salvations.
I cant keep a mood.
a swift sea change
more resembling menopause than sanity.
I can't win you back.
I can't win me forward.
I can't choose the right song.
to dance you to and out of our doubt.
I didn't mean to say that.
I didn't mean to bring that into it.
And I can't write.
I've got complaints for days and
the philosophy and logic to imagine all dangerous scenarios
leading me to crazy town.
I can't stop feeling.
I can't stop forming thoughts of what I never should have done.
I can't can't anymore.
For a time I have been seeing the moon more than the sun.
But not the shimmer glow, like the love of your life in a silver dress,
not that beauty of the moon, but the black and blue night
bruised by its failures of not being big enough to fill the whole sky with light
like the sun can.
