empire! empire! (i was a lonely estate)

part 1. you are what i am not
will the same mistakes haunt you like they used to do?
or are you afraid that your body won't let you choose?
you are your father's son, the same disease that holds you held him once!
and i know that if you push this hard it will still take hold.
you cannot accept the things you can't control.
and i know your mind is young but your body's old.
and you can't forgive yourself (though no one else could blame you for this).
but hold on! hold on! hold on!

and already i can't remember the heart was ever aware
that the body it kept alive was wearing out, was shutting down.
and tonight, when it realized you gave up, it cried out,
"only now, i realize i always knew."

then, every breath made you confess you did not know what to do with your hands, this is a new side of you- so full of fear.

part 2. to esmé with love
you wore the hand-me down dress that never fit quite right.
your mother's frame did not favor you.
the summer she passed you were born, and your father lost his job.
he could not handle it (or you).
you wore the saddest smile that never fit quite right.
yours mother's smile felt that way too.
the summer she gave her life for you, and your father blamed you,
was the summer you began to blame yourself too.

the long days piled into weeks before you'd speak, as the stone crawled to meet the shoreline.
and it began to rain at once!
i tried (i tried, i tried, i tried) to keep the awful things at bay from you.
but it was on the air and useless,
i might as well have tried to prove the words i fought to purchase would comfort you.
like, "there was nothing more that we could do."
or that i still loved you (when nothing could be further from the truth).
will your hand fall out of mine?
your shame lives on its own, trying to reach the depths down where it belongs.
will it find rest in your bones?
aching and pulling muscles to act out against you!
so stay your pity now.
if it reaches the heart, we all pull out.
and let the beat slow down.
(there's nothing that we can do for you now)
are you sorry or are you just scared?
there will be no false comfort here.
oh, i ought to tell you the truth! i did not to come to plea for you.
where was your heart when your words led the truth anywhere else from you?
you're not sorry, you are just scared,
i have not come to calm your fears
i am sorry i hid what you are.
but everyone else but me already knew! already knew!
and would not come to plea for you.
where was your heart when they never appeared?
anyone else would care.
but you would not shouldered the weight you should bear.
i will not shed a single tear.

part 3. and squalor (midnight conversation where the rain meets the hood.)
it flew out of your mouth, "you can drive me anywhere- just drive me anywhere but here."
tonight, the length of your neck is a lonely parapet; you are armed to the teeth and looking for a fight.
it was in your mother's dress that the temper finally showed signs of slowing down. your fingers traced the route of the seam (like a map of your body that landed just shy of your knees).
it fell the same way on your mother- as she was, at that age, the same height as you.
she never faced a fear quite as sharp, but her sister did and it broke her heart
what came out your mouth next was a series of mistakes- you had taken all you could take,
and here tonight, the weight of their stares, they could bury you alive. you were worn to the bone and looking to disappear. and who could blame you?

it was in your mothers dress that the temper finally died out, and gave way to the fear that keeps its company with such a loud mouth! (like the sound of an earthquake tearing out terra firma's mouth).
you must not let it in, and keep your head up on top of your body. there are far, far worse things than this, so we must move with purpose and do what has to be done.

part 4. realize real eyes are real lies
oh no! i thought you'd changed; take back all the things you said.
i remember thinking this evidence you left was damning enough
but you took all the words from my mouth and pulled them out.
how could i not see you for what you are?
but you turned all the words from my mouth into doubt.

and i wish i could tear your heart out!
break meter and release, and still the voice it keeps
and i wish that your lungs would give out,
and finally give air to breathe
but i know better now. no words could weed you out
when your back's against the wall, you'll be crying out
"i'll take all the words from your mouth and leave them out."
your hands are shaking.
finally, call out!
and the silence breaks your heart, finally.
oh, i almost pity you now (i almost pity you now).
finally, call out!
oh, i almost pity you now.
and i wish i could tear your heart out!
break meter and release, and still the voice it keeps
and i wish for your lungs to give out, finally.

city lights grace the interstates, the way you moved your hands through your hair when you feel alone.
remember the flowers you picked when we crossed over madison?
you were so sure you found yourself that you branded it into an oak - the one you swore reached through the sky and swallowed the city line,
you had yet to hit twenty-three (an age that would swallow you.)

will i ever understand how anything gets done?
i tied a knot in my heart for you, thinking that's what you wanted.
i tried to make my voice sincere
(tell everyone how hard it was)
and anyway, i could never reach your ears,
like the weight of its wings were clipped when they hovered near you.

should i tie your arms afloat to its melody, and anchor my heart to you in hopes
i'll climb out your mouth?
i was so sure you wanted love,
how could anyone find doubt?
i tied a knot in my heart for you,
though it's not what you wanted.

wear your heart out
wear your heart out
wear your heart out

i tried to make my voice sincere
(tell everyone how hard it was)
and anyway, i could never reach your ears,
like the weight of its wings were clipped when they hovered near you

I apply everything in my last review to this, EXCEPT the parts about line separations.

If put to music, this would all be interesting, sort of a bebop, loose rythem.

It would follow Jazz traditions and never repeat, or what it did, modify so it meant something very, very different.

I'd like to see part three in music, what form, who knows, but I'd love to hear it.

Just not Rap.
For the love of God, not rap.

Anyways, keep it up, and explain to me why you re-posted this.

i had a lot of fun writing this poem/song
each part is supposed to be told from 3 different perspectives-

part one is the narrator talking to the "boy" and explaining that his suicidal thoughts are hereditary from his father, having seen his father's suicide firsthand. but the narrator is also telling him that his fear is only of himself.

part two is the narrator talking to the "girl" and explaining why her depression has taken hold of her life. the narrator recites her life story, and tells her what to do. but he explains that he cannot help her, she can only help herself.

part three is the boy's monologue towards the girl in his head during their final meeting. she was in distress and she called him and told her "you can drive me anywhere- just drive me anywhere but here." he gives her advice he has taken from the narrator and it helps her until part four

part four is the girl's monologue after finding out that the boy has attempted to kill himself. her anger has overcome her body and mind in the same way her father's had after the death of her mother during her birth. she doesn't know whether or not the boy has succeeded or not, and neither does the narrator, who adds the line: "i tried to make my voice sincere(tell everyone how hard it was,)and anyway, i could never reach your ears, like the weight of its wings were clipped when they hovered near you"

the narrator, i like to think, is an angel. not the godly kind, but the angel on their shoulders. the "good" side of their mind trying to win over the "bad" side.

hope that helped