If our paths

If our paths should ever cross again, dear
I hope my eyes betray it all
so that my lips don't catch fire
with the hell I'd like to spit at you.

But I'm a lady, sir.
So I'll give you one glance-
colder than any dead eye's stare
Then I'll turn away, tall with pride

To find the path where you won't tread
Where words are truth
and gestures kind
And there I'll dance.

Looking for me

Whenever I have an I Want A Re-do On Life day:
I turn the music up.
I put on my big girl mascara- the waterproof kind.
I look God in the eye and say,  "What are we doing here?  Clue a girl in."
And God usually answers.  In Her own sweet time.
So I keep singing.  Yeah, I run, too.  Baby, I keep breathing.
And keep looking for me.  I'm just looking for me.

In your pocket

I am not content to live in your pocket
nor in some far corner of your mind.
I need to walk right out to the end of your nose,
make you see double, and dizzy you up.

I'm not happy as a passing thought
that creeps in with a lonely fog.
I want to be all the space between rain drops-
every sound in the stillness-
all chirps, hums, and whistles-
that low buzzing at the end of each nerve.

I'm not satisfied with being a memory.
I want to settle between your breaths-
just heavy enough-
just present enough
to hurt.

I can't fix anything

I can't fix anything
No, these hands don't work
Ah, these eyes are going blind

It's just as well, love
They were never enough
Oh, not what you needed

I can't fix anything
No, this skin is numb
Ah, this blood is slow

It's just as well, honey
There's nothing left to touch
Oh, not a drop to feel

I can't fix anything
No, these ears don't hear
Ah, they're tired of listening

It's just as well, babe
They know the words
Oh, they've heard it all

I can't fix anything
No, these lips don't kiss
Ah, this tongue won't taste

It's just as well, dear
My mouth's gone dry
Oh, I've swallowed it all

I can't fix anything
No, it just won't do
Ah, all that's grown old

It's just as well, boy
Some things are better left
Oh, broken where they lay

That hole

You want me to fill that hole
But I've got no dirt
And you've drank all my water
You know the tar's dried up
You've given me no stones
Not a pebble to throw

So I'll just get down in it
I'll hold my breath
And puff my chest
But nothing
No, nothing
Comes close

And cry

I am not undone
by the turn of a head
or the glance of an eye
Nor by words spoken
and withheld
Or by the consequences
of folly and fate

I am not defined
by what others think of me
or when they do not
Nor by whispers of
my name
Or by them forgetting
my face and figure

I am only as I am
by God's own hand
and my free will
I am satisfied
with the sun's touch
I've been bowed to
by oaks and ferns

I do only as I do
by my own mind
and my heart's leaning
I intend to heal
with skin and smile
I've reached out with
hands small and willing

I want to believe
in hope and love
and better days ahead
I want to run
and not grow weary
I want to sing
It Is Well With 
My Soul and cry

Catch me

I'm that little dove-
eating the seed that fell.

I'm all wind-
chaos, heat, and cold.

I'm a mad, red leaf-
looking for the ground.

Scattered and searching-
catch me if you can.

I keep...

I keep listening,
but have yet to find
a song that fills the hole
behind these ribs.

I keep breathing,
but have yet to keep
my head from spinning
'round the reality of time.

I keep looking for you
among the green
and passing cars,
but hope's a slow walk.

I keep running after love
and throwing it at emptiness,
but I never catch up.
No, I never catch up.

I'll tell you

I'll tell you what words are for:
Filling and emptying.
I like lips that think
and choose each word
with surgeon's hands.
Sealing cuts.

I'll tell you what hands are for:
Reaching and finding.
I like your hand pressed,
just so,
at the small of my back.
Guiding.

I'll tell you what eyes are for:
Seeing and saying.
I like the stories
you tell with your eyes,
and occasionally with your lips.
Dear.

I'll tell you what love is for:
Taking and giving.
I like life in reverse,
when all that is wrong
seemed right.
New Love.

Maybe

Have you seen my soul?
I have a suspicion it is scattered.
I keep finding pieces of it here and there-
in the people I meet.
But they say it's their's, they do!
By my stars, maybe it is.
And maybe I'm the one that's lost.