Sometimes I must bleed from somewhere
to see the pain I feel, must
bleed the real from the surreal.
There is a punishment in the silence
of the staring stars, in the overhang of sky.
It is no wonder I punish the ear.
What I hear and don't
are weights, are judgements I cannot escape, cannot defend myself against.
Love should mark us,
change us, scar us; if not for good,