How many times must my ego die?
Always a sacrfrice on someone else’s table.
Given to an estranged god.
Given for other’s needs.
Never for my own.
I can no longer follow your sun
And I feel bereft.
Shipwrecked on my own island.
Not sure I can trust my own sun.
And where it leads.
I am in the fire now
Burning up in grief.
Over your ghosts.
Solitary again.
This is a space where I have a mid life crisis, write about my creative journey, and talk about songwriting and share bits of terrible poetry.
Shipwrecked
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My Piano Needs to be Tuned 
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