The
three
words
we long to hear
above
all others -
You.
Belong.
Here.

I'm a honeybee.
You're the smoke
that has molded me like putty
in your calloused hands.
Once I'm out of the hive
that is my soul, you come
in and steal parts of me
I have a hard time creating
and replicating over again.
It was a sweet escape but it
was laced with the fact
you would only use me.
Why did I let you in?

Can you really see everything?
If I laid myself in front of you, would you know?
Could you reach out to grab my heart,
Or only grasp what was meant to be shown?

Can you really see everything?
If I stood beside you, could you tell?
Could you place your tender hands upon mine,
Or only cover what wasn’t hidden well?  

Can you really see everything?
If I presented my last breath to you, would you grieve?
Is everything shown before you what must be true,
Or is that what the world wants you to believe.

In the dark, we are all nothing.
What once had an identity, now only what remains.
We are only something when the light chooses to show us,  
Without it, we are just part of the unknown, we are all the same.

So tell me now, can you really see everything?

Alone I keep
All the lights
Off.
Ain't no
Sunshine
When
She's
Gone.

You
use to
comment on how
cold my hands always
were, back when you had
them to hold. I guess when
your heart is of ice, it tends
to somehow show Even in the
small ways, like the heart-to-hand
ice flow.