The reason I left was not of your being
It was that side of you kept well hidden, not for seeing
The preliminary basis of a concealed fact
A genuine warning sign maintained with tact
It restrains your hands and demeans your worth
While contemplating the test next time around that you'll see Earth
Slender body in my arms but your vision is crying
A feeling so horrible to give up trying
Dying each day to be born anew
With Depraved Heart sentience for filling that shoe

At first in your voice I heard inspirational phrases
Peering through the rain for better weather phases
Fighting and twisting to match their ennui
But you bounded through all the reciprocity
Catching the vapor updraft with that shy grin
Remembering the skin you're wearing is genuine
You march to that drum beat sounding the lightning storm
Of A cold heart blowing in the wind, unaware that it's warm

So in breaking your heart you'll hear love again and take flight
Prance with every step and paint a newly blank canvas full of fight
The part of you crying, "missing puzzle piece hidden in plain sight!"
Is the very same light within you I've seen shine so bright
And know I came to realize by the end of this night...
The next day and Tomorrow are yours to write

Old and frayed are those sleeves.
From the many tricks
that have been worn upon,
and then
washed from them.

They have seen better days,
And have lost their vibrance
From careless machine washes.
But there could be a few more
Hearts left up those sleeves.

Everyone learns that convalescence turns to evanescence when reheated bubbles rise into effervescence. Conflicts turn with ease from shame to blame and wrap back around afflicting and constricting the veins. Tension to dissension when your worst thoughts slide by the side taking every abide on their pretentious and demented path to divide. This lesson on entropy is no radical notion. But rather a fanatical description of raw emotion. The most important connections we build in this life will be tested redundant with an abundance of strife. Perfection is impossible, we must only continue to row. Our reflection is the garden that we inevitably grow. It begins at one moment by sowing a single seed. Reach out to someone feeling lonesome because truly we are all in need. Or try again with heart in hand and if you fear for wasted time...

I love you.
I forgive you.

These few words don't need to rhyme.

It's hard to think clearly through the
"That's Life!"s,
"No work, no play"s,
The "you can do anything you put your mind to"s,
and the "do what makes you happy"s.

It's hard to keep a personality through the
Ifs, buts and indefinite, fluctuating opinions of right and wrong,
him and her, you and me.

It's  hard to keep personal through the
Impersonal means of communication,
Retold stories,
and the disatisfying interactions between you
and the people you have chosen. The people
who you believed had chosen you.

It's hard finding me through all of this
you.

I and the space between us ebbs.
Your presence, I cannot maintain.
As there's nothing I can give you,
And nothing you can gain.

still smile.
Your silence is a kind of
Yet, still I don't.
A name can be home to many faces.
There's more for me to see
The other way.
I know you more;
You could be the first point of contact,
They both were in love
Make of me, but
And she he;
With melancholy.
Shut;
Unsaid.
An impartial judge to this acquaintance.
Heat,
The words of then are bled.
As to Yeats Inisfree.
Do not be familiar to me.
For he liked her,
But you are self-interested and
If only for awhile.
I am no more than what you
But when swept in a drunken
From words that were left
As we age
But, at the end of the day,
They wish it were
to me
Our bodies decay;
****** upon my hand-crafted pedestal,
But it had to end.
It conjures memories, feelings
Grief,
'Cause I was glad to have known you,
Define me.
No less than how you
Our minds grow and
The sea is.
It's sad hearing yours, although I
and long forgotten places.
But keep your mouth and desires.