Songs Are Like Tattoos

Trials are blocks that build me up,
squares on a quilt that is my life.
They are memories of vodka slumbers,
nameless faces and hands that weren't mine,
ghosts of needs I never wanted,
and empty silence fueled by time.

Trials are trails I wandered down,
the walks that have brought me here.
Though my scars are vivid still,
I know the walk is worth the tears.

This is my entry for Second Chance Idol over at [Unknown LJ tag]

I've spent two hours on the phone with Suddenlink Cable trying to sort out my internet woes. Finally, I walked across the street to my boyfriend's house to post this. His internet didn't work either, so I'm hunched next to the window pirating the neighbor's. Mercy...I cry mercy...

Flat

 

I was all curves,

Tangled in darkness,

Hands groping for what I wanted,

But will never have,

Not with you.

 

You left me broken, open, raw,

And I sleep alone in a bed

Full of promises no one could keep.

 I loved with all I had,

Giving what you could not need,

Needing what you could not give.

 

In the lonely silence,

The curves are gone,

And now, I am flat.

**This is late due to shotty internet access. I am always thwarted in these contest by the horrid connection my university makes available.

The Drum

Since I could speak,
I lived inside the drum.
The beat of expectations pounded
in my brain,
through my blood,
to my heart.
Be brave,
be bright,
be beautiful.

For the sake of love,
I lived inside the drum.
The beat of standards sounded
in my glass,
through my scars,
to my bed.
Be sweet,
be small,
be silent.

After twenty years,
I left the drum behind.
My new rhythm resounding
in my eyes,
Through my smile,
To my words.
Be bold,
be strong,
be free.

ETA: This is my entry for week 1 of the contest over at brigits_flame It's a community only vote, but feel free to join! There's a new contest every month, as well as editing opportunities, and a chance to read some really neat writing. Spread the word!