Stomach The Truth?
I stood in front of her like a chivalrous buffoon
Begging for Truths I was certain I could handle
Me and my pride, one in the same
Her mouth began to move
However, my ears could not believe what they heard
Lower and lower
Until the fetal position my body formed
I begged lies to comfort me
My thumb in my mouth
As I begged for my mother
To sing those old nursery songs to me
Believing in fairy tales once again
Are not meant to be told.
Silence is like running water to my Soul when it is so parched
I am flat on my back reaching for something I will never grasp
It comes much too infrequently these days for me to concentrate in the middle
I know I’m rushing through all of the rest
Silence is like a hot bath on a winter night while my robe is waiting
Everything is on the top shelf and I am much, much too little to get to it
All I can get is nothing that I want
Silence is like a light in a darkened room
I’ll never know the difference
I’m on the other side of the door
With all of this noise.
Love. Her. Any. Way.
She will rock the boat.
Until you are sea sick.
She will shoot off the flares.
At inappropriate times.
She will speak her mind.
Without thought of recourse.
She is guaranteed to make a mess of things.
Is your love only for the nice and neat?
She will make you grow and grow and grow and grow.