All My Words Are Empty Tonight
i've spent the day reading words i wrote
ago. and i wish i could say i've seen progress, but
i haven't. i still whisper to glenn when i'm most
vulnerable, "i'm so, so scared." and i start to shake
and then i start to cry, because i feel, still, always,
so very damn lost.
i've fallen down the rabbit hole and find myself
sitting at Alice's tea party in skin stretched too
tight, pulling my cheeks and looking like nothing
but a smile and these huge, huge eyes.
"your eyes are the window to your soul, denise,"
he told me tonight, "and i have never seen such
and this made me cry. i always cry when i drink
i told him two nights ago that i am leaving somewhere
around the 16 of September and i might not be back.
it was very hard. now he is telling people i am leaving
and i am angry, for it's not his place and i could still
change my mind, and i told him that. it's not his right.
i drink tequila and i bare my soul in this place and
in my singing and people seem to like it, strangers
smile at me and it leaves me giddy and breathless
with possibility. i could make something of my life
yet. i can change this pain to joy if i just knew
the right words to write.
instead i sit here in the glow from the monitor and
cry because i am slowly dying and i want to want
| home | back | next | words |