on most days I feel
either nothing at all or
everything at once.

I have always wanted a dancer
A girl whose passion comes out from her movements
Whose innovation flows through her body
But she is not a dancer
And yet she dances her way through my head
Graceful movements that cannot be translated into reality
With her bright eyes
She looks into my soul
I wish she could know my every thought
I would hold her close
Breathe her in
And cherish that scent
In the little box that holds my heart
Where she doesn't know
She lives.

They asked me, "Why are you crying?"
I told them, "My eyes are sensitive."
They asked, "To what?"
I said, "To the wind."
They walked away and I knew they would never understand.
They've seen clear, sunny skies,
They've been living in paradise.
I've been in a storm,
just trying to find a place to protect my eyes.