session notes

(your heart's not breaking now
it's just that pieces keep on hitting
the ground
and this is not a panacea
not a cure for the disease
this is just another treatment
one more pill to take the pain.)

and let me know (or let me in)
because I know what this is like,
I can tell you how it feels
to crash and burn, to fall like night
across the skyline that we can see is not
about to rhyme (it's not quite consonant)
with the rain that keeps the beat
with the stars that play the melody.

but we are clinging to the very thought
of what it's like to be alive
(and no, no damn it, it's not what we expected)
no stoplights for the blind,
just holding on and clutching things
thinking how it's all so damned unfair
thinking just "how can I live with this disease?"

don't let them tell you it will be all right
(we can learn that on our own)
words are not a cure (just a medicine)
but in the end,
it's only poetry

in time
it's all just poetry.