the messages transmitted through silence,
like everything in the bloodstream;
silent but nonetheless complete..
the path of least resistance,
like the running waters of the river;
hitting stones but forever flowing.
for thoughts clear enough to be words,
like the field of light cast by the moonlight’s glow;
plain and true.
for feelings strong enough to be tunes,
like a bird’s song against the murmurs of the trees;
with highs and lows of pure candor.
for the lies you tell yourself,
like the fact that you are well and fine;
little lies you tell to get by.
the words you hear but can’t accept,
like the reasons why you are genuinely special;
words you deem false and untrue.
for the false thoughts and feelings you’d like to hide,
like the hideous secret of a prideful maiden;
cracked and stained but permanently present.
for the moments of weakness and pure surrender,
like a beaten down ship traveling to port,
with its white sail hoisted for utter defeat.