The version of me that I play for you is a lie. I cannot tell where my dreams die, or where life decides to untap my phone line. I wish it was all so heavy as it was when I was young, pouring my desolation in songs sweetly sung. A boy with a goal to pull the pain from a woman speaking to him from a jewelry box. She danced on the beautiful blue bay outside my window with the sun casting from the West and sweet winds blowing from the East. On ice so thin it cracked from a pansies limp. She danced knowing the celestial light would fade and people would come and try to mold her in clay. take pictures to exploit and sexulize but she never stopped the Ballet. I wanted her freedom like a broken heart wants to sign pain and love to a treaty. Time came and went and I grew wild eyed and ready to fight a hurricane. Home was where I laid my head and time had chipped away at my soul, narrowing the light at the end. I could not be her anymore than I could be a diamond fostered by coal. So now I lie about where I have been, what I have seen, what I have heard, and more of what I felt. I am man starring at a blue bay watching freedom while trying to suck what little necter is left of the day. She knows I couldn't bare it. It's why I can watch as a stray but never participate. Wanting without passion is too heavy for the thin blue ice. Others more gifted than I have fallen to a watery grave. So now time will turn me grey and I lie listening to the jewelry box that freed my name.