The white noise masks my thoughts;
Screaming so loud
The sound cannot be fought.

An owl of fine repetition;
Aging against time,
He beckons me.

Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.

I miss...
missing you
chasing you
wishing for you
to wish for me.

I miss...
excitedly telling you
who I am
and who I wish to be.

I miss...
not knowing
when I would see you
hold you
exhale your breath.

I love us now...
don't misunderstand...
but the anticipation
and the adventure
at times get over-powered
by the day.

I miss...
our breathless
creativity
and the almost violent need
to be close.

The ignorant live in their own small world,
Hidden by a lack of understanding;
The many lies they hear are never unfurled,
They're sheltered by belief in a being;
Even some who swear their veracity,
Thrive gaily protected by their credence;
They welcome menace and mendacity,
Pushing away actual malfeasance.
But the ignorant can only see grace,
In their paradise they live cheerfully;
Their faults are invisible in that place,
While the rest of us remain fearfully.
Sadly ignorance will always be bliss,
And I will always notice what I miss.