Half-Done

Half-Done 

The rock that holds my frame, 

The same.

The paint on my canvas 

Is not stretched thin,

As the colors forge my beauty.

My sin.

The notes creating my song,

My wrong,

Comes to a break,

And the melody pause,

For a breath to take.

Conductor stands still,

But there's no mistake.

Just unfinished art.

I wait backstage 

Before my part.

A map with unknown seas to chart.

A palette with brand new colors to mix,

Create,

To fix,

Relate,

She picks up the pen

Because it's not too late.

Tap Out 

Singing songs about dry bones rattling,       

But I can't catch my breath,

I can't stop battling,

Calling,

I'm calling for help.

Not a way out.

Just someone to tell me 

What it's all about.

To never tap out.

To silence the voice

Who tells me I can't.

I can't.

Stop.

Fighting.

This anger igniting.

Then I break down.

I taste the salt 

Of my sweat on the ground 

I hear the count.

1.

No.

2.

Get up.

3. 

I can't.

4.

I can.

5.

I pant.

6.

The chant.

7.

I stand.

I shake.

I'm a breathing earth quake.

My heart's an eruption.

But don't take

Me out

Of this fight.

Just give me one more bullet to bite.

One more sunrise.

A beautiful sight.

One more smile.

A number to dial.

Another embrace.

A wind to chase,

Just to land back home

And find my place. 

But don't take 

Me out 

Of the fight.