Rapunzel, Rapunzel...Let Down Your Hair. No.

What would you be willing to do
To gain my heart and make me come to you
What would you be willing to do
To hear me sigh your name while I say I love you
What would you be willing to do
To get closer to the core of me where I smolder and burn
What would you be willing to do
To thaw what encases me that I fall into your arms

The best possible time is now.  Your eyes burn with wanting to break the code
You have my attention, my questioning mind
You are getting my response

Such a fast learner, like your life depended on it.

Like your life depended on it.

Oh Dear wouldn't you be willing to hear me when I say
I don't care what you say
I'm paying attention to you with my questioning mind.
My response was a flood tempered by smooth and unbreakable walls
I let you see the smolder and burn
I let you hear the sigh
I paced your course on the waters

I gave you the code.

And though you are kind.  And though you say you love me
And though you try with burning eyes when you touch me
And though you strive your passion fractures as an arrow caught by wind


I see you slipping your grip
My feeling comes and goes
Because you miss opportunities to add heat to the thawing ice

Now I am dropping lines in the water where you flounder
Hoping to recapture the passion you cast my way
The passion you don't sense is missing the mark

What would you change if you become complacent.

Don't let me down.  Please let me down.  Don't let me down
Don't be complacent
I'll be lost to you
And I will feel as though I failed something not meant to be mine

The Sweet Life

I sit here thinking, how could I speak to what is in my mind?
I am not as well spoken as he is.  My voice trips over itself and I stub my tongue on the stones of my teeth.
I am not as delicate as she is with prose fragile feelings and empathy.  My mental fingers grasp and fumble and shatter beautiful things.
I am not as blunt, as honest, as true as those two opposite sides of the coin.  The woman that feels she is selling herself and the man that would pay any price to let her know she is precious.
I lie to myself.  I hide my truths under translucent blankets that don't cover my feet or my face or my shoulders.  I am so fucking vulnerable and my words have become anorexic.  Thin and malnourished.
I have forgotten how to read and never knew how to write or speak, even after those remedial classes.
I have taken to listening to others words, viewing others minds and art, feeling others feelings.
I use them to define my own.  I use them to validate myself, to anchor my raft on unsettled and rolling waters.  Everything touches me.  Everything moves me.
So I set myself apart.  I did this a long time ago.  My little slip set adrift and seeing nothing but the tempest I have never had a reason to come to shore.

I have begun to eat words.  I have begun to feed on art, music.

Well, I suppose I will see what comes of it.  At the moment I am distracted.