The Angel of Music sings songs when I’m stressed

“I should tell you I’m disaster”

Clicking my heals down brick and papered walls

We should sing when we want to

In darkness in between doors they look at me blankly when I tell jokes 

“Stinging and older asleep on pins” 

Behind closed windowed doors

You ask me why I need to keep cranking

In your office we take deep breaths and my page is empty

“I’d forgotten how to smile until your candle burned my skin” 

Sitting in gray cars where overcast skies separate brown trees

I imagine getting T-boned 

And a C ping shocks me out of the “Bewlay Brothers” 

“Trusting desire starting to learn”

Over brown tables and blue darkness in a daylight saved morning

Orpheus is in the underworld their singing their praises, 

I can barely get them to answer my phrases

“Walking through fire (with) a burn”

“Who knows Here goes”