I woke up today
to a brand new day
The sun was gone
the moon in its place
They both got bored
and decided to trade
Figured it'd be fun
to do it that way

Before too long
the trade caught on
The East went West
and the West went along
Then they both disappeared
when here traded with gone
Though it all happened slow
because short is now long

Night went to day
and day went to night
Tried to trade back
but day was too dark to find
Decided to stay
when decision changed its mind
Sat back to relax
When it traded with time

The North went South
looking to trade
But who could blame
The South for staying the same
They took it out back
which is now front
Sat down to have dinner
when it traded with lunch

If you ask yes
it was a tradable day
If you haven't already guessed
in quite a tradable way

I'm happy today
I'm excited
I'm antsy
I'm looking forward to the future

But I'm also afraid
Nervous
Cautious

But my fears are hidden
You can't see them
Because I have a front
So indestructible
That sometimes
I even believe it

Today is filled
With false security
Because one word
Movement
Action
Could tear me apart

But I feel happy
I feel good

Is it a lie?
Am I really okay today?
Or is it a convincing front
that even I believe?

Is this false security?
I feel pretty today
When every other day I know I'm not
I feel like dancing today
When every other day I can't move
I feel like screaming out of joy
When every other day I can hardly speak

Is this real?
Or false security?
Why am I so afraid....

To be happy?

Alone in a sonnet he sings to no one,
pouring his life in a thimble
Sheet music saplings unfold in the sun,
melodies eager and nimble

Carving a song in the rock at his feet,
tempos of Saturday’s season
Lyrics he’s written but can not repeat,
sadness a part of the reason

Clouded concertos amass in the sky,
metronome thunderstorms grumble
Holding his breath as he fears he might cry,
deaf as the harmonies crumble

Tuning fork echoes that weep on the wind,
listening for what they are saying
Unrecognizable only to him,
breaking this heart he is playing

I radiated heat
Like the sun
But it wasn't until your arms touched me
That my blood began to run cold

She was armed with a camera
He was armed with a paintbrush
And I just sit here with my arms bare
Wondering what weapon would be mine
For they all seem to be taken