take me out to the ball game...

Three strikes you're out.

Take me out to the ball game and leave me sitting in the stands.

The home run hit.

The bases stolen.

And on the jumbo-tron a fan left feigning victory

though the team is losing.

Saving face to save my heart.

-from the desk of S.C. Browne

between the bars

Grasping at straws to keep you in my life.

Making friends with mistakes that you made
that I marry to my own.

Mistakes married
and choices divorced.

To keep you as something close to my heart.

You'll never know.

And I'll never tell.

How I held out in the dark to feel you close.

-from the desk of S.C. Browne

whenever you breathe out... I'm breathing in.

I keep dropping sizes.

And the tailor can't keep up.

With a heart that swells and starves.

Taken out.

Taken in.

Left out.

The threads hang like reminders

that it never really fit.

But we shared that love in the in-between.

I was used to we, siamese.

- from the desk of S. C. Browne

Save a secret for the moon.

And in the gallery
between the heaves of storm
the tears fell for your sweetness.

This brilliant little man in love.

In love with the moon and the stars.

Why ask for the moon when you have the stars?


-from the desk of S.C. Browne

I kissed the bottle...

Blue boys for blue moods
found at the bottom
of Bourbon bottles.

Bitters and soda and bitter tears
for small victories
and great losses

Hushed exchanges of hearts
that no baited breath could ever betray.

Your secrets are safe with me.

-from the desk of S.C. Browne