You are a dream, a lonesome whisper I speak only to myself- usually
You are nothing more than air, for anything else found there can only wreak of sorrow, torment-usually
You are a heaviness of heart I cannot remove, nor want to, I need to- but cannot
I found myself up in a tree talking to this birch about how I need to let go- but cannot
I need to forget about holding on, and bracing for this fall-from grace?
what distance can provide in spacial and in time for me- from grace?
we both know you’ll break my heart, why not jump in- go, start
we both feel the distance slackening this golden rope- go, start
you can no more tightrope walk with your knees- than I
You can no more give warmth to me- than I
I said my piece, I can say no more,
that will give truth or meaning to what I’m feeling
Is it me that’s wrong, that I wonder at?
to trust one that has such pain in store
for surely she’d had stores of it before.
I said my piece, you know where I stand
and yet I question your love
should I prepare myself for your passion
or for your heart’s reprimand?