I’m home again,
alone,
with the same tragedy
that I used to smile through.
With the same cup of coffee prepared,
yet I’ll never drink it.
I’m home,
strong,
yet lonely,
seeking solace through my silence.
I have no expectations for tonight,
except finding joy
in solitude.
In love with the silent moments
of mine.
I’m home.

Oh my friends and foes of yonder realms
Tell me,
How strong the irony of the wish we hold
That the now may be the later peace
And the later may feel the feels of now
To lay with the beating of a heart that hurts
To run with the void of one that rests
To find reprieve in a soul that feels the void
To sing of the joys of a song that warms the soul
Say oh say, let the truths that binds be known
That nothing but the vast embrace of time
Ties and binds both souls as one

Some people remind me of a campfire,
a source of eclectic senses:
the smoky wood,
the evolutionary fascination of the flame,
the warmth and chill of a starry night.

Others remind me of a snow day in grade school,
a source of jittery incongruence:
the sprinkles of white,
the disruption of monotonous school work,
the mischief of nature coming to the rescue.

You remind me of an early morning rain,
a source of calm melancholy:
the soft droplets on leaves,
the lessened saturation from the overcast,
the heightened realization and contentment of one's existence.

The essence of people
epitomized as scenes and collective experiences;
it is not so much of what it is
but rather how it makes you feel.

I am always just a version of myself.

Have I ever really known the full me?
Not necessarily.
She is but an aggregation of all the experiences she's ever had,
people she's ever met,
memories she's ever made,
even the ones that have been lost to time.

My personality, speech, and mannerisms are all imprints made by passersby.

Need I know the full me?
No, not necessarily.
Like stained glass that misses the details,
I am a mosaic known only in concept and suggestion,
and this is enough as inhabitant of this body,
even if the resident is unknown to self.

WITH THE WORD "LOVE"
YOU KILLED ME INSIDE

YOU MAKE ME FEEL ALL THE
"BUTTERFLIES"
BUT SUDDENLY YOU WILL **** THEM ALL