little blue flowers

uninvited

^^Music by Erik Satie above^^

*****

you are not welcome here, stranger
your skin is foreign to us,
paper-thin and rough
and your eyes have seen things
wrong things
real things
my mother says
you're not allowed near me
good christians stand in your yard
in protest with the atheists, hand in hand
humming along with candles in the wind
blowing and burning
and moaning for your home
to be ash.

but when i found you listening to satie
in the back of the library with your headphones in
wild, wrong eyes closed against us
i couldn't help but sit next to you
pull an earbud from your left side
and stick it in my own ear
you didn't say anything, stranger
but when we listened to music
i felt us dancing
just swaying the slightest
on that musty library carpet
just our shoulders brushing
against the music.

when i found you
on the roads in the rain
your angry tears flushed away
with the downpour
i pulled over and you climbed in
and we didn't say much aside from
hello and how's it goin'?
but i think it was enough
to be next to someone
in a car going 65 mph
through the rain.

or when i found you
on your knees outside the church
with your forehead pressed to the ground
and your hands spread before you
your mother had died
and my people had banned you
from attending the funeral
so i opened the doors
took your hand in mine
pulled you to your feet
almost a dance, nearly a salvation
and let you in.

you're not welcome here, stranger
and though i vouched for you in church
and my mother
locked me in my room after
and my father took away my car keys
and my life
i still found a way to play satie
and close my eyes
and feel you next to me in the car
your salt-ridden tears on my lips
your wild eyes and rough skin
and silent mouth
all belonged to me and this room
and this house and this town
stranger, you belong
to me.
to yourself.

when you found me, stanger
crowded in the street
by a million of my people
and i felt my skin tighten like a noose
i almost cried out for you
i almost cried out for you.
i wanted your wrong real things
and your ash, the music
crashing into me
cracking porcelain
i wanted the ruin.

but when you found me
you told me what i wanted from you
was too much
that i wanted a fuck-fairytale, a dream
to kiss and love and break my heart over
my hands are not rough
and i've been blessed with this skin
so what more could i want?
i have my people and this town
to live in for the rest of my lily days
and you are only a forbidden-fruit blip
on my timeline.

you are not welcome here, stranger
when my eyes have
caught up to my mouth full of ash
i will leave this town
in the pouring, angry rain
rake my fingernails along my skin
till it's rough and paper-thin
i'll comb the country and see some things
wrong things
real things
and listen to satie
as i lose myself
and fall into a town
where they call me
stranger.

i'll find the girl
with the searching soul eyes
and feed her my dream,
my "fuck-fairytale" if she wants
because she is me
and i was you
and all of us live in our
strangers.