Billy the Musical

Music is one of the very few things 

in this world that remind me that i'm human. 

When I think about why I'm here my brain 

becomes cloudy. 

Religion? God? 

Well Yes, I've always known that 

But where does truth live, and who says 

what you say is truth and what I say is not? 

Who says that this is not real, not full expression, 

not authenticity? Who says? 

You see, music makes me human because it possesses 

me without ever talking to me. 

Music never yells, 

and it makes me cry. 

Boy does it make me cry

Usually on long car rides

alone

when i'm so insanely happy my cheeks hurt from

rambunctious smiles 

or so incredibly alone that five people don't answer their 

phones in a row

and my eyes droop to the back of my head with silence. 

Today I heard a song and imagined sweet sweaty hands holding 

my small round head singing it to my perfectly chapped perfection lips

Then I sat next to an artist and we harmonized over ukuleles 

and skittles 

Music has me so strung out that I could model my whole existence off of it

Become a musical and dedicate my life to it. 

Have a dream and say "I'm Fantine! Now let me sing!" 

Then Die. 

I hate that Fantine dies. She was such an important part to Jean 

and his future, their future. 

I'm sorry if you don't get my references by the way. 

Thanks Billy Pilgrim for being you. 

Reference again. 

Sorry 

But at the end of the day, I look at myself and am so god damn 

happy that i'm not strung out on perfection, 

that I don't fully know what I believe,

that life is not close to a curtain call 

and that pretty pictures and laughs, 

and especially music make me human. 

Thank goodness for that

and to the opportunity for moments to be stuck in time. 

Thanks Billy. 

The Floor

When I find myself most alone
and vulnerable,
I find myself on the floor

If i'm ever sitting on the floor with you
i'm uncomfortable about something
and it doesn't have to be a bad thing,
it can be a very good thing.
It's just a thing.

Ask me.
I probably won't tell you
but go ahead,
ask  me.
Now that you know my secret

Floors are my friend
Sometimes the comfort of a
hard chilling wood floor
is exactly what I need for the sweat
pouring off of my brow
streaming down my oily face
to that chilling wood floor

I'm so uncomfortable right now
so I'm sitting on the floor
criss cross
apple sauce
ankles bruised
sloppy hair
black eyes
saggy sweats
shaking hands
running nose
screaming voices
vulnerable

Just waiting for this floor to wrap
his wet skin bone arms around me and
eat me up
I love the floor