The subconscious I; who weaves patterns through the faces in halls I try to ignore. My voice silenced by the Self-conscious society that has been trust down my throat to swallow and endure.

Forget what you where born into and were you are from but remember the days of love and the sunsets that come with them.
For I know the greatest thing is life and how you look at it when you are happy.
And no one ever knows exactly how they made it to the point at which they balance on which is unfortunate that our brains cannot hold onto so much reality and dream as we would like too with it's resourceful chemical reactions and electric currents.
But, this is what table tops are for and legs who are destined to dance upon them.
These people should learn to spend more time on airplanes though because they seem to measure the world's significance greater up there.
But we are all forever in this together and this is all i know.

listen to the warmth in her eyes.
The sudden shake of her hands trailing patterns over warm skin.
Heat in her voice cooled by reassuring words of empathy.
This is not what she is wanting but is hers to give.
But depth down to the bone,
Classic cliches ; nothing is ever as it seems
And that there is one hundred others just like me.

THESE legs have turned colours with the strength of the sun
Have climbed Mountains and off Cliffs
Wrapped - around squeezed the passionate ones
Previously folded up underneath These arm when the passion proved to be short-lived
Broken my fall when stairs have been absent
And continue to keep me alive with a left foot right foot motion.