I can see it right in front of me.
The look on two people’s faces, closely conjoined
One shows the other something they love,
You can tell it in the wrinkles of their smile and the high in their eyes.
The other person- disjointed. Façades of pleasure coat themselves in a silicone mask
To feign the feelings the other has, naturally coursing through them.
I’m sorry you’re forced to receive the plastic. You deserve organic joy from the things that shake you.
I can see the annoyance on your face mirroring their smirk,
Your time is limited and it’s a feeling I know all too well.
We’ve descended into the desert- lent has begun for this observer, and with it the promise of
and with it the promise of
One hell of a trial.
And yet, there is goodness no farther away than out the corner of my eye.
If I keep that sense of encompassing love around me,
I’ll be able to glow right through the spooks.
Today is a day to avoid cemeteries,
But how do we abstain from the mausoleums in others’ hearts?
How do we find peace in our subconscious when our dreams are constantly attacked?
Surgeons, domestic terrorists, and insect amalgamates are throwing everything they can
To disrupt our pace and our peace.
As I write on top of this monolith,
My fingers feel the ease of flow and the nimbleness
Of a well-warmed guitar.
Even if my heart is unprepared,
Even if my mind is clouded,
Even if my voice is murmurs and grape juice,
My fingers flow, and express their love.
This is the scape I know the best,
So I’ll just let my fingers go, and be free and love how they wish.