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cant_control's Journal

Created on 2007-06-25 19:59:47 (#13242975), last updated 2009-12-10

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Name:cant_control
Website:cant_control
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Her face is cracked from smiling, all the fears that she's been hiding,
And it seems pretty soon everybody's gonna know.
And her voice is sore from shouting, cheering winners who are losing.
And she worries if their days are few and soon they'll have to go.


I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience.
She smiles. "Tell them to look up.
Tell them to remember the stars."


I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve,
and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings

but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness.

These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight,
between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
-to write love on her arms






Because you, you are the only one left
and you've got to clean up this mess.
You know you'll end up like the rest
Bitter and twisted - unless
you stay strong
And you carry on.
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