If I scratched out all the secrets of the world with this pen and told you a thousand reasons why I think you make it worthwhile, maybe you’d love me.
Or maybe I’m grabbing at something that can’t be clutched even by the most desperate.
Giving dead flowers, turned the colour of withered, shrunken oranges to somebody who yearns for the taste of life and sea salt.
Giving autumn to your heart like a summers night, forgetting that no-matter how beautiful it is you still can’t breath it in and fill your senses with something so cold.
[Freezing up your insides until you are numb As numb as you make me, when you tell me all you want is uncomplicated straight sentences, when I flourish my letters and add little pieces to words to make them sound so much prettier. ]
You can’t sail away in a stream of consciousness but that is all I can give you, except a pool clear enough to swim in and see everything for what it is, that is so tiny that you would destroy it if you even dipped your finger in to feel the water cradle you, and draw you in to all its sadness for one tiny little moment and make you real again..
[It is like you because it can’t take anything without the help of somebody else in case it shatters.]
The title is a line from the phantom of the opera “the music of the night” – close you eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth/ and the truth isn’t what you want to see-