your stories are poetry
and my tired eyes
want your lullaby

you have the power
to allow yourself
to ask for help
to take for granted
to take some time
to take the healing pains off your mind.

Sparkling cracks
in the seam of things
yet things still seem to lack
your beautiful imperfection.
aren't there some questions
still unanswered?
taunting you to fill
those gaps with dependence
on chemicals
on fallen giants
on silly lullabies
like this one that echoes
when you dance through my mind
the absence of light
couldn't be darker
than hurtful intentions
of making me believe
in anything you can give to me
things leave us
blind to the truth.
the truth
that change is constant.