if i only had a heart

sometimes, most times, i feel like a tin (wo)man.
wandering around singing "if i only had a heart"

yet i somehow feel it drop, crack, break.
doesn't really seem possible.
so impossible, in fact, that i feel like an amputee.
scratching an arm that no longer exists.


it isnt even real.
i miss the arm of another.
an arm that will never be approved of below
the mason dixon line.


oh southern breeze.
your limited path inhibits my emotions.

women as objects

on we go from old to new
may be a facade may be true
not meaning ill will
not meaning to test
still holding hearts
we place on rest
jack sang of hunter
turned huntress

but honestly
i was born one
my daddy raised me
to aim well a gun
what did he know
when he taught me
of impending
necessity

so far from home
and future too
so short a trip
would make old new

or new to old
a story untold
no fight
no fit
just growing cold

for now

sun is happy
wind is cold
sun is warm
wind makes me hold
my breath
still waiting
still searching
still looking
still huting
against my will
not mine but Yours be done
until the setting of my last sun
to feel
the taste
to taste
the feel
still searching
still waiting
still being still

that is... if you want to

a song the gateway (tunnel) to my response to you
my sentiment
which, according to sociological discourse, is my social demise
my sentiment. my demise.

back me up against the wall.