i found a mini legal pad in an old handbag of mine. the contents consisted of a half written score to a song, notes from a lecture on the devil in ancient greece, and the following:

1: write me letters,
fold them into paper airplanes
to fly pieces of you home.

2: stick a needle in my chest
and through my heavy heart to tap the source
and let it drip out fresh onto the page
untouched by throat and right hand.

3: if you came tonight
i promise id sing to you
i wouldnt change the words
because you were in the room.

4: and if i tried to forget
my pen wouldnt let me
because im writing you
writing you home.
with ink stained hands
i have been writing you
writing you home.

5: im tired of writing songs about the same thing
there are only so many repeated notes a tune can sing
there's only so long coals can be raked before they grow cold
and dead and scars turn story and ache dies old
there is always new to take it's place
always new salt for a drying face
and always new sun to burn away
the thickness from my eyes.