Misplaced deliberations,
        oh where did  I leave you?

Like mislaid socks,
              I wear
mismatched thoughts

nicely fitting but not right.

My eyes are not furnaces,
melting realities into idyllic casts
disfigured until their original forms
are but ashen memories
upon the ****** anvil.

Nor are my eyes windows
Through which I gaze
And through which others gaze back
Pure transparency
And no deception

Or mirrors that reflect
Images mimicked
Upon an insincere facade
Merely a copy
Never as beautiful as the first

My eyes are not any of these
They are pools of water
In which I see both myself
And that which is beneath
The world below the surface

Everything I see is painted me
The shade that I have made
For myself and no one else
Ugly, beautiful, personal
To me and me alone

How can I enfringe on your politeness?
How can I describe your heart?
How can I manipulate your feelings?
How can I animate your words?
Do this and you will see the thing you want most
Do this and believe its what you are able to hear
Do this in knowing your happiness comes from words
A world of excitement awaits your smile
A world of ecstacy awaits your walks
A world of your own waits for acceptance and positivity
So make the best of it and know this world wants you to stay

We meditate on things least wanted
We describe things that make no sense
Describing you would only make myself a better person
But having you accept these words become happiness of your own
A description of you divides your souls windows
A description of you makes many minds jog with personality
See happiness and know it was discovered by your memory of already being here...