this music is mine.
mine to lean on when darkness trips, falls,
awakens broken, bleeding, nursing
its dull red wound called sunrise.
this music is mine.
it defies the universe's
wry wrinkled weeds.
it explains why we need and do not have.
this music is mine.
this music is mine alone.
oh! glitter glory,
oh! bitter isolation
in being at a loss for words.
i am lost in song,
and the words i wish to say to everyone
again and again and again
are lost in my music.