“The wind blows gently
As feathers fall around me
A dove perhaps?”
Glassy eyes, filled to the brim
With pain and longing
She is…all alone?
A curious face
Not one I’ve seen before
Why is he crying?
Our paths differed
Twisting and turning
In seemingly the opposite direction
And so, we moved forward
One toward rejection
The other to infatuation
A blank face, small figure
And a heartless attitude
Surround her in shadows
An energetic demeanor
Infectious smile and lonely soul
Adorn him like a cloak
A gentle breeze catches her hair
As the forest around her
Teems with hidden life
And cautious eyes watc
As I walk through clouds, sheltered by rain
I paint the trees that oh so gently brush my feet.
I sit and watch as the rivers sing secret melodies
And spires cut holes in my gently flowing clouds;
As purple rain soaks my swaying fields
And glass flowers shatter at its touch.
As I breathe in the smell of earth,
The cracks beneath my feet are swallowed by time.
Memories shimmer in the distance
And my sunsets are but clouds of dust.
I run lies between my fingers,
Like blades of grass that cut my skin.
I hold the shore-less ocean in a bottle
And cast my fears to the bitter wind.
I cradle the moon on my lake-bed
And gather the stars to sleep at n
I grasp for memories as they fall before me,
Like grains of sand too small to see.
Little things now forgotten,
Oh whatever could they be?
Steam blocks your face,
I cannot see
Whether or not you look at me.
I find it odd but say nothing more,
'Cause you're closed behind that door.
The maze I've built around my mind,
Guards me from clear thought.
With layers wrapped in meaning,
But too obscure to unbind.
Where do I reside in my mind?
Tears come too fast for my liking,
But I shed them with a smile.
They betray my weakness,
But also my pride.
Because I gave my tears a name.
They are called "humanity"
I'm not witty or clever,
Nor light as a f
I weave my world through the eye of a needle.
And gently sew closed the wounds of my past.
And, though they burn with unshed tears,
They have kept me from repeating such mistakes.
For hurting another for the sake of hurting.
A thread made from the love I have received.
For hating when joy was given.
A thread filled with all gentle caresses.
For taking that which I didn't need.
A thread holding my tears of joy.
So many wounds, both given and taken.
Is there hope to close them all before the end?
I feel sorrow for the wounds I've made.
The pain and suffering caused by my hands.
Given the chance, I would like to change my mistakes.