here, girl
I'm coming
coming to take your porcelain hands
are they open, are they free?

I'm scouring the deep
sailing the seas
to find the words to say
the words that just might do

because I'm on my way
finding things to make you smile
turning into a better man

the kind that hopes he's
gentle, strong, and pure enough
to take your porcelain hands


the prequel

I'm the smile that looks away
the child who barely plays
I learn but I don't rehearse
first worse

this pit is bloody steep
the light may be bright
but it's way up there.
this pit is my sky
the walls are my reality

I can dream all I want
try all I can
you may have all the rope in the world
but what is it to me if you don't know,
can't know.

only if you can sweep an ocean
over my blurring anger
or quiet my selfish pity,
only then-

-only if your salvation
trickles down past my feet

as your love soaks my lungs

-only if you'll free me
from the books of fall-short helpers
and shallow fortune tellers

-only if I can continue
to loathe the old, embrace the new,
and rediscover time and time again
a whelming and sufficient mercy

only then
in my pit
will I take hold
and be free.