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Hold Back to Hold OnTonight, I sit hereblinded by my own words,as they crawl across the screengiving life to my inner scream.Now neatly stacked in a stanza,trapped between linesand hasty rhymes.A begining to a poemwritten for you, but not to youthe way a subtle hint is droppedwith no one to catch itexcept hope.I love you.I say that too often,and a convincing lie most of the time.Save the moments those words are for you,like now, stop the clock.Hour, minute, second.I count, each one away from youthe way this stanza falls away fromthe first.Wish I could go back,but the third stanza.. actis already underway and who am Ito halt the play.. stage.. pain.. rage.I rage against myself,back ..and forth.Always the same answer resounding.I can't tell you how much you really meanto me, because if I lose youI have nothing. Not even this poem.
.tell me anything, give me a poem -let me walk through the night with lightin palms outstretched and melt the dark,pour salt and time and swimright through the net, fresh waterbrimming diamonds in the sun, i hit the iceand rise as steam, a shepherd of the air, a gentle ghostthat hears the scrubbing of her grave -and i am still afraid of needles in my skinfrom mother death, she said she birthed too soona life that kept its eyes shut to the world, the best,she told me, i had skin of bark, so thick and strong,my veins like branches, they'll feel holyto the birds, got roots that go straight down to hell, when will i learnthat there is no grace to be found in hangingfrom a tree, my neck is twice as strong as mary's, but in my bodyway down deep,there's something turning fitfullyin sleep(and it knows more than i do)