My mind is light as a feather,
Swayed by a gentle breeze
But my heart is so heavy,
It makes it hard to breathe.

From thoughts to heartstrings,
One soars while the other sinks.

Death thinks of me as his daughter,
Whispering his word into my ear,
Beckoning me to prove myself
In joining him on the other side.
His arms are strong, comforting
And his presence is absolute;
He tells me he will wipe away my pain,
All of my worries and the tears
I am far too broken to shed.
He whispers that he loves me
And in a world as cold as this,
I just want to believe someone does.

My eyes yearn for your face, just as
My ears long heavily your voice;
My mind craves your essence dearly,
Tormented through this lack of choice;
Why is courage not passionate
Like desire entangled by
Anxiety that erupts in
Every cell--just answer, why?
Cruel fate has imprisoned me,
Bound within joyous misery.

If we were all brutally honest
From the start
Perhaps we wouldn't feel the need
To lie or hide or sugar coat
For perhaps we would
Be kinder and less sensitive
And remember we're all the same,
Condemned by human nature,
And then maybe it would be okay
To tell someone that this annoys them,
Makes them anxious or stressed,
That they are deeply in love with them
Or that their feelings changed;
If we all just said it all
Right from the beginning
It wouldn't be so foreign,
And then maybe there would be no secrets
And then there would be no regret,
Then we could all move on faster
And forgive much easier,
For we'd know to understand.

But human kind is not beginning,
We are perhaps in the end of the middle
And we are already sunk too deep
In the dependency of lies so
That the truth can never be understood
And is seen not as a solution
But as a problem;
We are too far from the start,
Where we keep secret our feelings
Of passion, hurt, and anger,
What could be action
Is replaced by what we glorify as hope;
However, hope is just a lie in itself
That somebody else's secrets lie in our favor.

I look around
In this crowded place
And my eyes fall on you,
Just simple you,
And it dawns on me:
Somebody loves you.

Yes, somebody loves you
And to them you are not simple
But blissfully grand
And lovely and perfect,
But not to me
And that's really okay.

To me, you are a cold stranger,
With sunken eyes
I know not the color of
With a nervous tapping habit
Who chews a little loud
And needs to use chap stick.

But to me, there is a warm love,
With gleaming blue eyes
Too beautiful for you to understand,
Who drums his fingers in grace
As he chews on the cookies I baked,
Using his kissable lips.

If you saw him,
You could never see what I see,
Like I can never see what they see
In you.
We can't see it in ourselves either,
But to the one it is always clear.

You cross my mind most of the time
And when you don't,
I somehow feel lonely in my thoughts.
Although I'll never call you mine,
Your potential warms me
Like the summer you are
And the reality of the even chance
Cuts me in half, dead even,
Until I realize my chances sink deep
Within my hesitation
As I crumble
And I just need
To be that tiny piece you hold onto.

Oh, hell--I just love you.

I lie to myself all of the time and
To be honest, I am not quite sure why
Because occasionally they whisper
What I need to hear and wish to deny
But mostly, they spread doubt and fear as I
Start to question it all, life itself and
They fill me with just enough hope to keep
Me breathing, choking me with just one hand
While the other strokes my hair, endearing;
I feel overwhelmed in my perception,
Jaded by the truth as I'm burned by each
Question, sinking further in deception,
I tell myself it should be possible
Only to go and tarnish it fully
With every reason it will never
Happen, while my chance is fifty-fifty.