I only have enough confidence to fill the silence.
I only have enough patience to wait for not.
I only have enough self respect for apathy.
All this time, I have had enough.

Her laugh was golden, yet hollow.
The colour dulling over time, without the sun to help it shine.
Her eyes were silver, when they gleamed. Oh God, how pretty her eyes could have been.

Her heart was black; the most beautiful, nourishing shade of black I had ever had the blessing of seeing.
Her heart was painted black, layer upon layer of cruel intentions that only I could see through.
It wasn't her fault, don't blame her for it. Don't hate her for it.
Don't ever tell me that I couldn't love her for it.

Her wings were built on rainbows and stretched further than I ever would have thought they could.
She could only have hoped to fly one day, because rainbow wings couldn't carry the weight of the world;
but she let go of that weight, and can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't have done the same?

The days are pink now.
The layers of black that once enveloped her poor, weathered heart are fading.
Fading so quickly, and still you try and tell me that it wasn't worth it.

I'm glad she learned to fly, and I've never been more proud of a person.
I know it's not fair of me to say this,
not about the strongest person I have ever met,
and don't get me wrong, I really am glad that she learned to fly,
but sometimes I wish that I could have learned to fly too.

1193

All men for Honor hardest work
But are not known to earn—
Paid after they have ceased to work
In Infamy or Urn—

.
Rain falls shooting the grounds.
In walks avoiding the schrapnel pits
Bleeding, over spilling, as they swell
Memories play to the mute bitterness
Of far cold, how we went wrong, bled
At arms, burned within salted wound
Of dishonest rush, assault of friendly
Fires as die smouldered out of smoke,
Taint of grace flew into a cauldron dark
A cross of red was only suture to veins
Ripped in the onslaughts and love was
Our only casualty.  We were lost, never
To reach the shining wins of conquered
Spoils, never to bed with timeless downs
Of lovers on leave, we now just soldier on,
To walk with rains, in campaign of sorrows.

In the silence and misunderstandings that separate us
I need to believe there is a place where we can meet
a place of mottled light where the only shadows
are painted by ancient firs who conspiratorially lean
open, welcoming hands down to greet us.

It is a place where all thoughts of judgment and jealousy
are simply too petty for consideration
love being implicit in the moisture of the air
words are unnecessary for our eyes reveal
everything we ever want to say.

Fear and resentment are unknown here
we refuse to recognize them if they slither
into this haven while we are sleeping
restful, innocent, unworried
history does not exist, the moment held is enough.

If this vision were dispelled, my soul could not sustain
reality’s weight.  I would be battered, fragile
as a spiraled whelk on deceptively smooth rocks
splintered by hate and unwillingness
to be as the sea, fluid and graceful, all encompassing.

Will you come with me here?  
Or is the hour too late?
We can meet in this hollow sacred space
and begin again, let loose misconceptions
clouding the life we share.          

The path is faint
trust your weary heart
it will lead us to each other.