Peripheral

Most eyes see superficially.
Selfishly.
As long as the sight is reticent of personal acceptance.
Vainglorious.
The sights that favor your opinion are lighted with softened hues.
Self-admiration and muted colors are hung throughout your mind.

The cloudless grey dons on your walls.
A sad peeling paint flakes with every touch.
The bareness revealed as each flake dusts the floor.
They stir long laden dust like smog at sunset.
Each step wades deeper and deeper.
Until you are no longer able to breathe pure air.

How it must feel to move through life that way.
Suffocated.
Somehow you are unable to recognize the sepia.
Antipathetic.
Your sun doesn't drip from leaves after rain.
The acidity slowly dissolves all color.

Peripheral

Those eyes that see consonance.
Benevolent.
What they see are consummate acceptance.
Altruistic.
The sights that favor acceptance are lighted with wondrous hues.
Humanitarian and vibrant colors are hung throughout your mind.

The reverberating aquamarine dons your walls.
A soft yellow brightens with every touch.
The loveliness revealed as each sun ray caresses the floor.
Stirring up tiny luminous fairies to float around your thoughts.
Each step feels lighter and lighter.
Until you are only able to breathe pure air.

How it must feel to move through life this way.
Liberated.
You easily notice the omniscient spectrum.
Empathetic.
Sunlight bathes your surroundings in diamonds after a rain.
The colors slowly efflorescent the darkness in your heart

Intrinsic.

Time

There is time.
In every direction we turn, time will meet our gaze.
With every decision we make, time will tell..

You find a voice and you speak.
A thought may begin a revolution.
A sunrise just might spark a return.

The song you hear just when you need to.
The lyrics hit you within such an internal hurt.
You say nothing because the pain is too much.
The words you want to hear simply echo out of reach.

When your life is on the line, why do you stay silent?
Why do you spit hateful words?
You know you want what could be yours.
You know you want to love us.

A spirit mocks you. The demon speaks for you.
The face you see in the mirror is not yours.
The drink in your hand does not hold your life.
It only holds heartbreak.

Sing your song elsewhere. Sing for what you need.
Otherwise you only find a common factor.
The habitual anticlimax that is your word.
The perpetual affirmation that I am good enough.
 Are you?
Am I?

Perhaps I am not meant to be in this moment.
Maybe I am the thing you wanted but you forgot to hold on to.
Maybe you are the thing I wanted but I can't seem to see I have already have.
People grow - sometimes together, sometimes apart.

All people change. All people find themselves as strangers.
Whether to themselves or with others.
Whom do you choose?
Who makes the cut? Do you feel you can?

What would happen if we both make the cut?
What if we decide that we truly love each other and no one else matters?
Can you do that?
Can you show me that you love me?

Still?

Do You?

Thoughts run through my mind and long to fill pages.
I need words like others need air.
Days go by yet words aren't written.
Failure to create is like withered breath.
Expression is daunting.
It is revealing.
It warrants your time.
Do I continue?
Do you want to hear me?

Darkness and Light

The world is wonder and light,

Though with its share of dark.

We see what we want to see.

I'm trying, no struggling to focus

On all that is lovely.

That dark though, it's a heavy weight.

I carry it like a sinker on a line.

How I pray that I notice the sun.

And all of the beauty it enlightens.

Every day.

And even in the night,

I pray the moon helps me remember 

That there is constant light,

that I am not drowning and

I can always surface 

and breathe in life 

whenever I need it...