Lulu_D

I write with a knife

It cuts into my heart

Spilling it onto the paper

My emotions

My thoughts

Painted with blood

Once I start

There is no stopping

I bleed

Begging for someone

addressed to everyone i call my friend

Words scatter 

             don’t scare them away

we tread with trepidation -- slowly, they gather

again

You play electric guitar

I play acoustic

Neither of us are very good.

I know a few chords,

I played the chorus of 505 for you

You told me to "get Weezered"

It didn’t occur to me, not on the first day, or the second

* * *

If you asked me to describe the job