Precious
March.27.2008

I can see lights in the corner, right out through my window
Everything within and without fills me now amidst night and shadows
and darkness, the whole spectrum of life as it’s known throughout yet
Nothing will or can or should effect me the same in turn as you
For no night is so formidably alone and no sound is pure enough to alter
everything that is so bound and taut within these strings I own
The wind blows in and through and out, windows wide open and yet
It will never be cold enough for me to loose myself to breathe and fall out while
Myself being something that I hope is precious to you as it is to me
And as this world made truly of itself, of dotting lights, is so precious too
I wish to smile and see you and leave this smoky worthless existence here
Where licenses all read thirteen, unlucky as the day I was born and where
Superstition reigns and controls all-knowing and unforgiving
Lavender elbows and vanilla candles and it’s more than I am allowed
They beat straight through my chest, my heart, and damage all between
I don’t understand living this way within this smell and chocking
I’ll change all the tracks, pollution ringing loud and beautiful
It’s a precious world. When I own it. When it’s mine.
The lights in the corner don’t flicker, though it would be prettier to say
they did. They did.