Me And My World

There's only me and my World.

Minus the crooks, liars and cheats.

Minus the mobsters, their wives and their mistresses.

Oh, how I pity these women. 

Do you really think he ever loved you?

Tell me, do you think Hitler was capable of love? 

It isn't possible.

You were nothing but new shiny earrings on a mannequin.

You were the mannequin - empty and hollow. And not because you're empty and hollow. But, because you bought into the lies. You fell under the spell of the Magician. It was all illusion, wasn't it? But, I'm sure, at first, it felt like he put on a good show.

Some of you fell for the bling and the flash - the jewelry, the cars, the house, his touch and charm - the 'fantasy' or what some would call 'the good life'.

And when it was all said and done, you even paid with your life.

I hope you're able to exercise your revenge from beyond the grave.

You'll have to ask the Angels for permission, though, but I doubt they'd allow it...unless, they're Demons. Will you even know the difference?

You can forget God. 

You killed your God a long time ago. 

It makes no difference that you christened your children, that you put crucifixes around your boys' necks. What did it matter? 

God was never there.

God stopped listening.

There's only me and my World.

Minus anyone mean and cruel.

Minus the thugs, the selfish and the greedy.

Minus people like you.

There's only me and my World.

Ladybugs and butterflies.

Fields of lush green grass.

Majestic trees.

The oceans and the stars.

The Moon and the Sun.

Spiders and centipedes.

Knives and Swords.

Alligators and venomous snakes...

So if you happen to stumble my way, 

I'll be ready for you.

On The Bathroom Floor

I'm the girl with Irish bones, standing on Irish soil in my Irish dress dreaming of sitting on a rock by the Irish Sea.

But, no. I'm here, curled up on the bathroom floor, wondering what went wrong. Oh the peace, the peace I felt once the spinning stopped and the discomfort subsided. Still, I'm here, curled up on the bathroom floor trying to recall what I was.

There's no grace. Only Rose. Rose. Rose is my name. And the scent of roses and lush greens, fields and pastures. My heart is like a lighthouse. I find my way back, back home, my home...to Rose. To Rose. To me. To the girl with Irish bones, standing on Irish soil in her Irish dress dreaming of sitting on a rock by the Irish Sea.

Let me be scattered and carried by the wind. Let the storms come and wash me away. It's no matter. I'll always be the girl with Irish bones, standing on Irish soil in my Irish dress dreaming of sitting on a rock by the Irish Sea...

In this life, I'm affiliated with old women dressed in black, overbearing Godfathers and silent Godmothers, mafia cars, drugs and money and overweight pigs, their whores and mistresses, kids who grow up not knowing how to treat women, boys who never become men and girls who make it their dream to remain...pretty and desirable.

Let me walk now. Let me walk, in my Irish dress toward the Irish Sea, as I lay curled up on the bathroom floor. Let me make music with my Irish bones and do not dare disturb me, as I lay curled up on the bathroom floor. I invite the wind and the water and the birds in the trees, to add texture to my song...to this song, which originated so long ago and from deep within, as l lay curled up on the bathroom floor.

I find a rock and sit by the Irish Sea. I lay my Irish bones down. What a perfect day. Just me and these clouds, the misty rain and the sound of the sea. I take off my dress and let my hair down. I offer a gift to the gods...because I'm the girl with Irish bones, standing naked on Irish soil by the Irish Sea.

As I lay on the bathroom floor, I pray. I pray like I've never prayed before. No, that's not true. I prayed that hard one other time. I beg Her to save me, to save me from this moment, this moment of loss and desperation. I pray. I pray to be kept safe and well. And, my mind wanders. It wanders. I stare into space and the space becomes a landscape...a landscape which includes a girl with Irish bones, standing on Irish soil in her Irish dress dreaming of sitting on a rock by the Irish Sea...

I don't want to leave this place...this place by the Irish Sea. I don't want to wake up. I want to stay here. Here, with my Irish bones.

I bring my head back and let myself feel the drops, the drops of rain like tears from the Irish clouds. My arms are outstretched for a moment or two. Then I lay my hands over my chest and I give thanks. I give thanks for this moment which spawned as a result of my laying curled up on the bathroom floor. The flame flickers. The light is faint. My light, my light...is fading. 

So let it fade. It's only a flame. All things must die and end. Let me be extinguished. Later does not matter, anyway. Because all I have is now. All I am is what I am...now. All I have is what I have...now. My name is Rose. I'm the girl with Irish bones, standing naked on Irish soil by the Irish Sea.

You'll find me in rocks and stones. You'll sense me in the water. You'll hear me whispering through the leaves in the trees. You'll see me in the distance supporting and encouraging you home. I'm everywhere. I'm beyond this flicker of light. I am the light in the night. I am the darkness in the light. 

I take a few steps in the water. My naked body and the sea become one. I'm home. I'm home, as I lay curled up on the bathroom floor. Because I'm the girl with Irish bones who was standing on Irish soil in her Irish dress, no longer dreaming of sitting on a rock by the Irish Sea...