the depths

the echo of my voice dances

along the waves of air

from the purple boxfan in the corner

my words sway with chill

and steam rises from my damp skin

my pulse races with the beat of a song

playing out of my mouth

he never understands me

and he never will when i tell him

the sounds a sad song makes

even if and because

i only sing it in showers of

one tear for every time i fear him

i know he'll always be here

never with or in spirit

but i don't think he is evil

he wasn't born that far away

just because i know

that he can only break

my heart anymore

that he can't break me

so i will keep singing

to sound as bad as it really is

we both harmonize alone together

throwing fists and kisses as the other

the land like kamikaze sunrises

mushroom clouds, scorched earth, and acid rain

tectonic rearrangements of things

we can never see

but we always feel

and it shakes us to our cores

to think that always might not be

forever in this eternity

whose lifetime do i love him for

i don't know

what the words mean to him

singing my song like a caged bird

fly on those high notes

like Peter Pan and Icarus

a strange lyricist in his presence

resigned to stay

out of context and in the way

he knows me with such fierce inferno

in his mind

aimed at every bridge i try to build

to get closer than i am to

the harder i try

to stand

to outshine the obscurity

about who am i

with the more distance there is in between

who my will is to be and whom i have been

intending to think i am there is

because it isn't about the finale

as much as it is

paralinguistics and nuance

between the notes

about the songs

we sing to get there

and there is no place like home

if you don't believe

you deserve one

here we sing

on this road to nowhere

crushed under the lean into

for the love of solitude

i love him always

and he who can't do is doomed to teach

because all gods need a devil

to be divine

if the money is harder to sing for

if the music becomes someone else's song

if what's mine is his

where is his place

for the mistakes by my side

or as a victim unfooled

or exacting lessons from a symphony

with his baby blues

all the better to deceive me

and for seeing myself in his eyes

while i dream into the depths in them

of my own reflection

of a narcissist

that just wants to feel

like it's okay

to want the world to love him

like he wants to love himself

so much it hurts

but i stay still like a hanged man

for his sharp tongue and teeth

to sink into the unknown

of infinity inside

of the songs

i do my best to sing

the right way

what's right for me