she chose to hang with the good and the ugly
best leave bad enough alone

picture mysteries and day-glo spots
her masterpieces fade with the morning light
but she’s an artist just the same

logic depends on feeling, she knew
incoherent, intersecting cubist tracers
of love and loss and longing
a binge of emotion to detox from

the music wouldn’t go away
the blood won’t stop
sometimes the song doesn’t end just because
it’s dark and time to go to bed

she knows that music, you see
those delicate, overpowering strains
her one golden gift, promise to a child

she cared now, it filled her heart to listen
she wanted it all, give and take
this one belonged to her 
she must not lose it

Dear God, her hands were trembling so
her heart beat so hard, you could see it
in her throat, you could feel it
in her eyes

she thought it was over
how could it not be over?
she reached inside and knew

it would never be over . . .


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