Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
Her heart holds Him, but her hand aborts.
Searching for confirmation of a better world,
She prays to discern it, but without worship.
A believer she is, yet still fully skeptical.
She deciphers reflections from the gnostic,
The reality from the deceptive.
And hoping to fully and optimally filter the fictive
She dances with Him, going solely with the wind,
To wherever His capriciousness takes her.
She bows upon His whim.

No longer shall I mourn the promises we never kept,
Miss the morning dances, or the nights we never slept.
I shall not miss how you inspired me to do my best,
Nor long for how if felt with my head upon your chest.
I leave you, for I love you more than you could ever see.
I pray for your happiness, perpetually set you free.

I live in a house of glass.

I wash the windows,
just as I wash my ***.

I sport shredded socks,

I never admit when I am wrong,
and almost always

throw rocks.

The house I lived in was like a chorus
of five-hundred elementary school-age children,
singing with all their might.

No mention or worry
to whether they hit the right note or not,
all that matters is that they try.

The air rings with carefree melody,
dancing and charismatic.
Rhythmic- full of life, love, and passion.

The house I lived in was perfect--
in all its imperfection.