A night at the Museum,
and we're dressed to ****.
The mood is gleeful–
and the people, chill.
All court the kings and queens of shill.

Our ****** deeds are whitewashed clean.
Our grievous crimes are left unseen–
sanitized versions on the tv screen.

But our steps were tracked with care
by one who could no longer bear
the growing horror, the scenes from there.
The cry of anguish, the dead-eyed stare.

Now the blood drips on our shoes.
Our deaths headline the evening news.
Yet still, the truth has only views
on internet sites with volunteer crews.

When there is no other way
Desperation will have its day

On this losing streak
Has to turn around
Strive so hard but cannot escape
Failure to which I am bound

Until starting positive changes
Disappointment will remain on your face
Day after day promise to improve
Clear to see that's not the case

Gone are effortless exchanges
Excited words once eagerly shared
Sitting on sheets together
For a relationship was unprepared

In blink of an eye you lifted my world
A little closer towards the sun
Leaving each trace of regret beneath my feet
No idea what we had begun

All the moments spent since
I've discovered in your company
Collected and shown on display inside
Like antique coins or paintings in an art gallery

Done proclaiming pathetic excuses
Instead of trying my best
You deserve someone who would die in order
To protect treasure buried in your chest

trying times
hot furnace

volcanic breath
fire in the blood

falling apart
falling back together

a unity of pain
deep acceptance

friends and lovers kiss
but snakes also kiss
just ask Jesus.