We exist like this: in the form of an angry dream,
a flag that’s planted,  a form of feeding the hill.
pursuing pleasures, mistakes retraced are what keeps our hearts beating still,
pull me back, realign the lie, dictate the difference so that I can be more than I seem.

Life is there, swirled in between dead eyes and a furrowed brow,
confusion musters courage, leading to discreet secrets before now.

Pressures mounting, shadows bleeding, and hiding the end in sight,
grip is loosening, rapid breathing it’s the end we warranted without a fight.

Close those eyes, but open your mind, sin again, and put the good behind,
drifting desire, I’m a million pieces stuck together, screaming “one-of-a-kind.”

I’m a stain that’s spreading, a smile cloaked in grace,
a laugh that’s needy, when misfortune takes my place.

We exist like this: in the form of vicious wind the telling sign,
You, my stable, unending, desperate attempt to define.

In a way, you’re a world; creating liquid chaos through the vestige of paper cups,
in a moment, you’re hated, targeted, and placed on every list of individual distrust.

I’ve split the difference, in the end, what difference does it make?
A matter of perpetual indecision, you are my deepest dream while I’m wide awake.

Emboldened by heartfelt moments that were stolen,
we’re a pleasant breeze, a miracle in the making, turning a silver lining into something golden.