I open the window
And the cool air glides to the floor,
Waltzing around my room
Sweeping past my ankles like ladies skirts,
While the room above
Leaks off hot air from stifled whispers
Then, the music stops
And the whole room sits
In a swampy,
Soapy silence
Until the clock strikes twelve

Sharp hands
Grasping at the light like straws
But the light drips though
the sharp fingers
Rolls down the Bony wrist
Falls
And puddles on the floor,
Like inverted shadows.
Lost, to the longing hands

I ripped you off like a band aid and it never felt so good.
Im glad you can find happiness in him and with my friends because I know they will be good people for you.
Iv haven't felt this great without you in my life and I honestly dont need the attention from another to relieve my loneliness for a day or two. I figured out how to be happy on my own and its a good thing your on gonna weigh me down any longer.
I havent found the light yet, but I have found a path, it will take awhile out of this cave I built but ill do it and come back better then ever!

To the tune of "Rinsing Silk Stream"

My courtyard is small, windows idle,
spring is getting old.
Screens unrolled cast heavy shadows.
In my upper-story chamber, speechless,
I play on my jasper lute.

Clouds rising from distant mountains
hasten the fall of dusk.
Gentle wind and drizzling rain
cause a pervading gloom.
Pear blossoms can hardly keep from withering,
but droop.

I can write about all the ways we miscommunicate
Words and phrases and lack of response
Blank faced with no sense of emotion or displays of affection
Unsure of whatever spectrum we're on
But if we even are on the same one, we're on opposite sides
It's funny how I can bleed out through pen ink but I can't ever seem to annunciate
My words won't translate into how I feel to anyones face and yours is no exception in this case
Barriers I feel terrified to get through
The break downs are rough and like milk you had in the fridge for months
You forgot it was there but when you find it it's spoiled

My emotions dry and crumble as leaves do.
The smell of pumpkin and cardamom
Reminds me of the day I cut myself
Deeper than I ever had before.

Yesterday I was ready to
tell you, all about what I'd done
for you to see me
in the light of day

the real me, not
the one I paint of myself.
Today, the paints cover
the very cove my body is

its sheltered hollow
recesses, each nook
hiding the darkest parts
hiding who I truly am.

If the sea was to part, no
if you could part the sea for me
I could know to trust
you, but here I am

alone, lost in thought, scared
to even dare unfold my body.
That is the truth now
not tomorrows, not

yesterdays. Can I ask you
to come find me. I
know I'm remote. There's
a lighthouse by the shore.

You will see me there.
The truth is hard to bear
even for me, & I want
no stone unturned.                 © Sia Jane

I shall never get out of this!  There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
And the white person is certainly the superior one.
She doesn't need food, she is one of the real saints.
At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality --
She lay in bed with me like a dead body
And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was

Only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints.
I couldn't sleep for a week, she was so cold.
I blamed her for everything, but she didn't answer.
I couldn't understand her stupid behavior!
When I hit her she held still, like a true pacifist.
Then I realized what she wanted was for me to love her:
She began to warm up, and I saw her advantages.

Without me, she wouldn't exist, so of course she was grateful.
I gave her a soul, I bloomed out of her as a rose
Blooms out of a vase of not very valuable porcelain,
And it was I who attracted everybody's attention,
Not her whiteness and beauty, as I had at first supposed.
I patronized her a little, and she lapped it up --
You could tell almost at once she had a slave mentality.

I didn't mind her waiting on me, and she adored it.
In the morning she woke me early, reflecting the sun
From her amazingly white torso, and I couldn't help but notice
Her tidiness and her calmness and her patience:
She humored my weakness like the best of nurses,
Holding my bones in place so they would mend properly.
In time our relationship grew more intense.

She stopped fitting me so closely and seemed offish.
I felt her criticizing me in spite of herself,
As if my habits offended her in some way.
She let in the drafts and became more and more absent-minded.
And my skin itched and flaked away in soft pieces
Simply because she looked after me so badly.
Then I saw what the trouble was:  she thought she was immortal.

She wanted to leave me, she thought she was superior,
And I'd been keeping her in the dark, and she was resentful --
Wasting her days waiting on a half-corpse!
And secretly she began to hope I'd die.
Then she could cover my mouth and eyes, cover me entirely,
And wear my painted face the way a mummy-case
Wears the face of a pharaoh, though it's made of mud and water.

I wasn't in any position to get rid of her.
She'd supported me for so long I was quite limp --
I had forgotten how to walk or sit,
So I was careful not to upset her in any way
Or brag ahead of time how I'd avenge myself.
Living with her was like living with my own coffin:
Yet I still depended on her, though I did it regretfully.

I used to think we might make a go of it together --
After all, it was a kind of marriage, being so close.
Now I see it must be one or the other of us.
She may be a saint, and I may be ugly and hairy,
But she'll soon find out that that doesn't matter a bit.
I'm collecting my strength; one day I shall manage without her,
And she'll perish with emptiness then, and begin to miss me.