I’ve met the lonely soul
The face of a stranger
In my own eyes
It’s only in the rippled view
That I see myself clearly
For who I am
Rather than who she made me
That water of life
Is of my own making
I’ve met the lonely soul
The face of a stranger
In my own eyes
It’s only in the rippled view
That I see myself clearly
For who I am
Rather than who she made me
That water of life
Is of my own making
You wanted me in totality
The stuff of your dreams
Untainted by my reality
Where I could only offer bite sized pieces
I wanted you in quiet moments
When the edge wore off
And my nerves weren’t firing
On all the wrong cylinders
We wanted something
Bigger than ourselves
Somehow we got it
Two beautiful faces
A glimmering future
I’m all caught up in the symmetry
Of a thousand rainy days
How one thing leads to another
As the roadside river meets the grate
I’ve lived this day before
With places and faces different
I fared this storm once then
The only difference? You aren’t in it
It’s the first time in a long time
That I’ve seen this
The mottled sky caress the starry sky
It’s the first time
In what feels like forever
That I’ve done this
Taking to you until 2 am
But it’s different now
There’s loss that adds its hue
These feelings of nostalgia
Mixed with the joy of the present
It’s all beautiful
Things that have passed
And the ones that are reaching forward
I find myself on a beautiful precipice
Between the two
Black and white are often wished for
But reality is like this sky
All mottled-like and astonishing in its subtlety
Staring into the gale
Of me
Is something I avoid myself
But I’m grateful for your prying eyes
Feeling the tension of the day
Inside
Is something I’ve learned to ignore
It’s a thunderous roar in here
You’ve got the sleeves of your sweater
Pulled up past your wrist
It’s chilly, but not quite that chilly
I’ve got the scarf
That I think makes me look sophisticated
It’s chilly, but is it this chilly?
It’s that hot apple cider chilly
The fuzzy blanket chilly
Preferably with you chilly
They tell us that blood is thicker than water
There are many times when that is true
But I’ve lived days where the water rushes
Louder and stronger than the blood of our birth
You dive deep into me
Often to uncomfortable depths
But unlike the others
You can withstand the pressure
Touching bottom when I need it most
I’ve felt every neuron humming
Every synapse firing
With both love and hate
Herein
I’ve held fractures and hope
Dreams and cynicism
In this heart
Herein
This body is a temple
It was razed and rebuilt
A testament to the strength
Herein
There are echoes in these halls
Dancing among the pillars of memory
I’ll always hold artifacts of you
Herein
Do you still think of me?
I’ve always been a free spirit
A slave to no one
To nothing
Except the thought of you
I guess that’s real friendship
Being unable to let go
Like the same thread
Used across a hundred tapestries
Will you always weave through
The changes in my life?
I clench my jaw
As the world turns
Is there respite?
Is there grace for the weary?
Is there strength for the weak?
Or is it all myth?
Is myth as powerful as truth?
Is truth more the power of an idea
Than its accuracy?
The outcome of a belief
More than that belief’s validity?
One can have knowledge
Of the machinery of the universe
But do they possess truth?
Does that knowledge inspire?
Is truth really just inspiration?