today i am a rock journalist
with my thinly bound notebook
that’s coming apart at the seams
of its note-ridden paper pages.
i sit on the side of the stage,
occassionally lit by the
flashing lights darting between
the audience and the stage, and
it’s so freeing how
in this darkness
no one can see
my journal’s similarity
to my fraying
jeans, chewed-
up lips and
torn out heart.