it’s the singer, not the song

if words can contain you the battle is already lost

the smoke that mingles with breath in a dive just before 2am

that last note of the evening is held

high

like a torch lighting the flame to show which way you go to get to heaven

you are the singer not the song

so much higher

you take my words and climb the ladder to the stars

placing an octave on each rung

like breadcrumbs

to find your way back down

you penetrate my pain on late nights alone

working at my fever

bringing me back to consciousness

someone saved my life tonight

against the backdrop of a burning city

bombs going off in my living room

and heavy artillery being mounted by neighbors with axes to grind

i heard a voice break through and it reminded me i knew a singer

and i let her bring me into her arms

and hold me until i slept

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