Elucidating Questions

It’s on the horizon screaming quietly in the distance.

The light hides the darkest, but the one in between still shines

The constant conversation in a mix of languages that only we can understand,

Sitting beside each other here but not in reality, screaming silently to one another.

Singing to the light that makes shadows appear out the edges

She’s gone to bed and I can still see the last fingers of the sun.

It’s all light, the light just isn’t always bright.

Within and without in seconds of light and life.

The wise one’s laughter always matters most.

The pull of gravity, not what keeps us on earth but what keeps those

Unworthy

From getting to where they want to be.

Looking in the mirror and seeing every part that doesn’t fit

Knowing I could scream my lungs out and never

Be found

When all I want to do is sing

When I want to make music

Instead I stand in a kitchen bustling with

Disenchanted youth.

Those who are overlooked

Because they’re not pretty enough

They’re not attractive enough

They’re not straight enough

They’re not white enough

They’re not

Cookie cutter stars standing in a line belting out music with no emotion.

I don’t want to watch music die as the disease slips in and takes away its soul.

I want to sing too.

From his perspective he cannot see her and I assure him she is beautiful,

From here she is beautiful, and I tell him to believe me but then I wonder

How can he not see her.

Where have then been where they could see each other well enough to know each other, if they can’t see each other now

And I am deafened by the silence as they fall silent and in one voice

We are from the beginning.

And the clock starts again.

Never beyond that line do I know where to go anymore.

Things about love and goodness and trying to be the one who expresses it

And anyone can be best at it

Because it gets better with time,

But I am always far more willing to give love than receive.

I don’t know how to do that as well.

But I will tell you how beautiful the moon was.

It’s as simple as even if I haven’t found hope,

Even if I still feel lost,

I won’t forget today, because it happened.

And I experienced it.

Today was worth it.

Because the loneliness ended.

She sinks into the waves, but from his perspective she merely sits,

But she looks to disappear

From his perspective he can’t see her.

As she is engulfed in the face of a man unseen, he sees only a pale blue dot in the distance.

So I whisper him tales from places unseen, and even the face

Is now the imprint of an angel in the sky.

But it changes so quickly.

Why do you take a picture?

How curious a question as I try so hard to explain.

The bear asks this curious thing.

I wonder what a strange question but then

Aha.

Why indeed.

The human fear of loss of the feeling of that moment in perfect condition.

Memories get convoluted, memories get muddy as you bring time into them again and again.

You’re not the same person who you were, so what if you forget.

I take pictures because I’m afraid I will forget.

I write because I’m afraid I will be forgotten.

Semantics

I want to talk with someone

Not to not at not one action at another

I don’t wish to speak at someone I wish to have a conversation.

Paralinguistics

I am not in love.

I am not experiencing love from another person.

I’m not within the feeling of it.

But

I know well that you don’t have to be in love with someone to love someone.

But we don’t say it.

We should.

But you learn to find it in the way someone listens.

Or the way you can follow even in the moments of

Honestly I don’t know most of the time and I’m nervous

That I know that you’re a person who can read those things too.

The louder the signals the worse a time I’m in,

But eventually it all goes back to the tiniest movement.

After all, I’m at my worst.

But I’m trying hard to be at my best.

It’s still not quite good, but it’s better than worst at least.

I walk home with my guardian angel hanging over

And in disbelief,

The third masterpiece

I have tried to ignore

The insomnia,

It doesn’t help, does it?

It’s just a conversation but it matters.

That moment of exchanging something a piece? Or an entity? Or a something un-seeable that creates the bonds that humans form.

When you can travel from the huge the extract and the larger,

But find those little ties that bind you together

Be it a hallway or a wall

It’s all just exchange of human experience

But it is something that matters so much,

And who I’ve been is still broken and shaking in some places

It’s when the scorpion starts stinging that they should be wary,

For the fish has no stinger,

So where did the barb come from?

Staying close to the moon because the land is too scary,

And it’s interesting to find the pieces as this empty social meter is filled.