Posts Tagged ‘Speak’

Because our two lives

are of different orbits.

 

I’d be lying if I didn’t say

I wanted to see you again.

Sometimes concealing the truth

is as bad as lying.

 

But if I could be anywhere,

I’d be in London,

or Paris. Alone.

 

I’ll have to pay off student loans

before I can afford a plane ticket

to Europe. I don’t think I’d say

goodbye to you before I’d leave.

 

Maybe I’d leave you my orange sweatshirt,

just because you won’t be able to wear it.

 

Maybe I’d leave you with the book

I made out of every poem

I’ve written about you.

 

Maybe I’d try to meet you beforehand,

and leave you with a word spoken out loud,

because you may not miss the sound of my voice,

or you may not remember it- I don’t

remember yours. And that scares me.

 

So I’ll leave you with a word,

if you’ll just speak my name.

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“Words and eggs must be handled with care./Once broken they are impossible/things to repair.” ~Anne Sexton, from her poem “Words” in “The Awful Rowing Toward God”

A Song Inspired by the works of Stephen Sondheim,

specifically “No One Is Alone” from “Into the Woods”

I’m all alone now

Nothing to speak to, but the air

Just ‘cause no one’s here now

doesn’t mean they don’t care

So why do I feel so lonely?

So empty and despaired?

Will things be okay?

Please, no one tell me that I’m wrong

Throughout all of next day

I have to appear strong

Is it wrong to feel this empty?

Is it wrong to be scared?

Where did I go wrong?

Pushing too hard, falling too fast

Was it doomed all along?

Why does the pain last?

It’s said that you’re never alone

Someone will take your side

My someones’ left me all alone

Don’t even have my pride

Will things be okay?

Please, someone, help me to be strong

Say “let the feelings stay”

Tell me I’m not wrong

Conversation is not my strong suit.

In fact, most people know me as being mute,

or simply quiet.

So finding the right words to say

to you is difficult. Each day,

I won’t deny it,

I want to say “hello”, and so much more.

But before I can, you close the door.

Do the worries cease?

Worries that I’ll say something wrong,

or that before I articulate you’ll be long

gone. Out like a breeze.

Only in moments such as this,

when static speaks

more clearly to me than any words

or mellifluous sounds,

when tear tracks sting

from cold winter air,

sadness generates a volcano in my chest,

and each limb is distinct and separate-

every nerve hot cold, numb or electric,

do my cares not pass

and I feel a part

of something greater and infinite,

as if I am only partially in this world.

And only in those moments

do I feel unafraid, while closer

to the End.