Violins were playing. The earth was shaking.

She swayed in my room as I stood there 
And watched her move to the music only she could hear. 

I watched in silence, 

In awe at how fearless she was. 

And she smiled at me and grabbed my hands and spun me around. 

I laughed as I listened to the music she heard. 

Completely oblivious to the troubles of the world.  

She amazed me. 

She held me close 

And then sat down on my bed. 

Her legs crossed over another as a child's would,

And she patted the spot right in front of her. 

I sat down and looked into her eyes then down at her showing wrists. 

The moon was tattooed and would never leave,

Just like the stars in her eyes. 

She was just like the moon, part of her was always hidden. 

But she was always shining with the light of the sun,

And her stars always glittered from the spark in her soul. 

She was my happiness sitting there so calmly,

Just smiling. 

Platinum blonde hair flowing,

Scrawny fingers twinning with mine. 

She brushed back my hair and looked me dead in the eyes. 

"I love you to the moon and back."

"I love you, too, my moon."

We laid down sharing the same pillow,

And I just watched the consolations form,

Until the curtains were drawn and the play was over. 

This morning when I woke up she was gone. 

Not a single thing was left to show she was there,

I didn't even know her name but I will never forget her platinum hair. 

I will forever love my moon. 

Quasimodo

What if?

What if I died today?
Would you still walk around with a perk in your step, or would that go away?
Would you travel like you wanted?
Would you visit my grave?

What if we were all connected?
Does everything we do affect the things another does?
Can one smile, or one threat change the course of the weekly news?
What if we aren't and either way, anything we try to do does nothing?

What if we could pack up and leave today?
Would you go with me or would you stay?
Would you come up with excuses, like your family and work?
Or would you think of how nice it would be not to worry about those things?

What it I told you we could work?
Would you listen or turn your head?
Would you stay and try with me or would you walk away?
Would you want it to?

What if I told you, that if you thought so too, it could happen?
Would you believe me?
Would you trust me?
Would you pick me over everybody?

What if I told you I've been hiding?
Would you try to find me?
Would you hide with me or pull me back out into the sunshine?
Would you know that even the beautiful sun can burn?

What if?
What if?
What if?

What if I'm sick of what if's?
Are you sick of them too?
Do they nag at you?
Do they hurt you when you realize they're just what if's?
They hurt me too.

They ring in my head like the bell tower does, every hour of every day.
They give me head aches because unlike the onlookers, from way down below,
I ring the bells.
I am closer, and they shake me with every last movement they have.

In my head all I hear is "What if this? And what if that?"
But it's screaming them at me over and over again.
I can't sit down with out hearing them.
What if? What if? What if?

What if I'm not alone?
What if i am?
What if? What if? What if.