It's hard to see from so far away-
at least, from what I can tell,
you are happy.
Happier? Probably.
Lounging in the 9th stratosphere,
maybe even so far as
just past the moon.
And who wouldn't take that trip?
The most I could offer was a pig
and some ****.

Maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe you would have lived life on the ground
but I never believed it.
Never wanted to squish you down to earth
and keep you contained,
bursting at the seams beside me,

waiting for you to understand what I had always known:
The ground under your feet was as needed
as the wind through your fingers,
the sea in your lungs
and the stars in your eyes.
And that you were always going to leave.

The grace of the divine speaks itself into existence
As we wash our clothes, mourn the past, and dine,
As we close our eyes and listen.

The truth finds its thereabouts
And reminds itself again
That nothing is meant to last—
The restless mind disrupts.

When I look at you, I see your beauty.
And when I look deeper, I feel your pain.
Will the world, for once, truly see me?
Or will they only glance at me?
Reflection, how do you perceive me?
So Wrongly.
Self, how dishonestly you portray yourself.

You see me smiling-
But do you see the weight beneath my grin?
You see me standing tall-
But can you feel the cracks I've hidden in my skin?
Reflection, you're too kind, too naive,
Believing the face I show the world.

They've taken my words, my truths,
And turned them into weapons sharp as glass.
What I gave in trust, they twisted,
Used it to cut me where I'm most fragile.

So now I hide. I build these walls so high,
Even you, my reflection, can't climb inside.
I keep my pain locked tight behind my smile,
For fear of giving them the keys to destroy me again.

I wonder, reflection-
Are you a facade too?
Do I hide from you as much as the world,
Turning away from what's true?

Can I trust you?
Can you see past the armor I've forged,
Or are you just another wall I've built,
Keeping me from myself?

I'm afraid to look too closely-
What if you're just another lie?
What if I've buried the real me so deep,
That even my own eyes can't find me?

Until next time, reflection...
If I'm ever ready to face you again.

I accepted the death
I just need the scent
of the things you left
the end is nothing,
I don't care about it
what I can't handle
is a hope;
with an insane,
exhausted tremor
I slam the door
beyond which there's nothing more
than the dust over the things you left;
tell me it's all over,
that I can rest,
cover my eyes
and close the door.

Golden rays paint the dawn, as a new day unfolds.
Hope blooms in my chest, tinged with a restless awe.
A sense of longing stirs, a whisper of what's to come.

To share a sunrise with one who understands,
To sense the earth's pulse beneath naked skin,
To feel the dew flow down my body, between my legs,
To awaken, body and soul, bathed in light.
The scent of damp earth fills my senses, my skin shimmers,
Melding with the dawn, I become one with the land.

A prayer on my lips, a silent plea: May she see the light within me, and meet it with her own.
The forest awakens, birds take flight, leaves rustle in the breeze.
In this sonnet of nature, I awaken my lonely soul.