december 2009-present.

A Poem by Sarah Wilson

There is no problem in feeling
I've never claimed such a silly thing
But it's known, a proven fact
That too much feeling, that solid entity
Is common man's common enemy

And here I go, here I go again
Crash and burn, fading fast, burning out
He argues, exhale and repent, press repeat
Do you hear the bitterness, she's healing

Healing, healing, hating but healing
Moving on, it's about time, isn't it?
Fizzle out and close your eyes

She dreams in red, she dreams in black
She dreams in hate, she dreams in pain
She dreams and dreams and feels
Oh how she finally feels, and this time...

She doesn't care that there's no one there
Praise be to the angels, the angels, the angels on high
She doesn't care that there's no one there

It was meant to be, supposed to be
Such a crime, violation, humiliation
Illegal intimidation
This is the first she'll write of it
Is this the last you'll hear of it?
I hope so, I hope so

Maybe you won't even hear of this
Maybe she won't even read this
Maybe she won’t even have written this
She will though, she will

She'll scream and scream and I, I will cry with her
We will cry and we will scream
I guess I'll admit it here
But her and I, we're one in the same
Same in the one, you could say
But oh, we're not together

Gotta keep us separated, it's suicide
Selfish personal slaughter, suicide
To put them together

I can't sleep, she can't breathe
She can't sleep, I can't breathe
We wonder, does this make sense?
We wonder, should it make sense?

Don't be frightened, isn’t this how it's supposed to be?
What a poem, what a poet, and hell yes she knows it
Even if you don't, she knows it
She can feel it, this is what she does
Who she is, it's her power

Take a picture, does it last?
Write a poem, the words will last
Draw a flower with words flying
I take something that was never there
And make a blind man see

There’s something else I do
And damn it if it didn’t get me in trouble with you
I thought in forevers, in forevers with you
We talked in forevers, in when-we-get-aways
What we’re doing tomorrow, inconsequential
Until tomorrow became today

And today, tomorrow, yesterday
There was nothing
I’m sorry to bring you in this
This twisting, conniving, forgetting
But it’s necessary, so deal with it
You started it, I ended it
Let me be the one who ended it
I needed the control, need to have taken it
There, at the end, that needs to be mine

I’m going back, back to the beginning
Because it stopped hurting awhile ago
It makes me smile now, smile
Because I know what I did to you, for you
Because I know what I do to you