You are something truly beautiful
In this hideous society
You shine a hopeful light
In a world where it's rare to see

Darkness touches all you view
Refuse to let night dim your fire
Ugliness creeps in like a draft through the door
Your peace my ultimate desire

I love you for all that you are
Had no warmth in my life before you
I made the decision to leave you stranded
Didn't know I would be stranded too

This is how our story had to go
My past was dark without your face
Today
Next to you confronted with
All I have been struggling to erase

There is no one else like you
They say each individual is one-of-a-kind
But they appear the same to me
You are the first to change my mind

You may have left scars on me
The feeling you give soothes any pain
Even when I am irreversibly miserable
You are the sunshine that ends falling rain

My bedroom walls are pink.
Why don’t you believe me?
Am I a liar? White lies don’t count do they?
Its storied in IG anyway. Follow and like please …

But dear, oh dear, I’m sorry,
I forgot you are blind.
Why, you asked, do I want the world
to know my walls are pink?
Oh, its just so me, and isn’t being something
a thing in the world these days?

Anyway I'm your eyes in this world
If you can't believe me in trivials
how can I tell you of other things?

I’ve gone and done
something dumb
again
you can’t love me,
but what if
you do?
you look at me,
I *******
crumble
your eyes on me
making me
want you
knowing I won’t have you
probably not ever
now I’ll sit in my car
I’ll pretend forever
you want me too

You're blocked;
you're bugged;
your eyes stay screaming
but I can't hear a thing.

Wash through me like knees through mud
not yet caked over by the heat of the
sun; like you're looking for something
you dropped and it may soon be entombed.

Look at me as you would a tree
caked in mud.
          Name me by my leaves, or
                    my sinewy limbs.

You're soft;
you're coarse;
the lines that puzzle your face
make frowning silly, and small.

          Name me Steinway like the
               piano. Or Pecan, like the
                    tree.

Find me forward, trudging through mud.

I can see solid ground but my branches
can't reach to touch the grass or its flowers
or to smell the rotten-ripe crushed leaves of
the pecan trees.

Stick me where I'm stuck,
save the mud. Give my leaves
some snow, some lightness,
cold. Give me color. Paint me
in storm clouds.