I deserve love and laughter and joy,
I know how to get it I don't have to be coy
I can give love and friendship and kindness, without even thinking of it, so ingrained it's mindless
I can trust my intuition and the thoughts in my brain, I don't have to have someone else double check my every play
I can be successful and support myself
I don't have to dim my light and hide on the middle shelf
I get to choose how I live this life that is mine, and I'm choosing to indulge in everything divine

I like when it storms,
the push and the pull
I'm addicted to the adrenaline and playing who's the fool
I've got a boat to survive the hurricane,
It's a little rickety and there's a few holes but what's love if you can't thrive in the rain?
Sometimes we drown but it's not forever, something about gasping for air makes that first breath of understanding better
I might run from your thunder until I match the beat,
find me in your orchestra-
the very first seat
It's always a shock when my lightning strikes, sudden and bitter and riddled with spite
But the worst part is when quiet comes, can we afford to rebuild or do we leave our land destroyed as it was?

The concrete cools, no longer burning my feet as the sun slips away for his evening retreat
Sometimes there's fireflies and other bugs do sing, but I'm waiting on the moon and the tranquility she brings.

The street lamps will highlight small places in the dark, but the moon and her stars did it better from the start,
She makes a liminal place feel serene, mapping constellations and discussing what they mean.

In this silence I feel so free, the air is not heavy when she's looking at me, I just admire the way that she glows, intergalactic wisdom pouring over my head to my toes.

I could stay out here for most of the night, from the suns purple goodbyes to his pink morning highs, when they switch shifts I'll return home, until it's time for my iridescent friend to show.

Recently I was asked to write something happy and while that seems easy,
I don't like being sappy
I rarely find beauty in things that don't bleed,
Tears and pain all over paper is much more my speed,
Should I describe a sunset?
And the peace that it brings?
The end of another day-
When the moon rises and sings
I could write about love but I've become bitter,
honestly a hopelessly hopeless romantic turned heart racing storyline quitter,
Maybe a thoughtful soliloquy about a bug, nah-
I'd think of men and that paints a mean mug
I'm sure I'll find something to pique my intrigue,
And pull me out of this pessimistic league.