Difficult things are hard to come by

The canary called from across the window to wake me from a sleep so profound I called it living.
There is no such thing, I was brimming, nearing a wake by the hand of meaning that touched everything
Left and right, till all was but a big stain that wouldn’t let me die or repose ever again.
So I lay at your feet, crushed by the utmost weight of pain yet learn to love all the way through bodily restraint.
A sight of paradise is more than most people can hold to their names so I wear it with pride, I’m not ashamed to hold you so thoroughly, so truthfully.
Were I to go back I would’ve done it all the same, and regret it either way,
Because love is most difficult, and mirage or no mirage I am devoutly its maid.

Happiness is body language

Who is to say whatever comes first,
The desire to be better or the ability to be so?
In any case yes, my eye extends to the future
And fights for the reverence of Holy will.
I might’ve shed the last of me, I’m not entirely sure.
It feels as if I have, so I ought to be and trust,
Because who’s to say whatever came first?

Green hill

Green horse with wings
Racing and dissolving into flame,
Then nothing but grey fumes
And a fallen star to the right of night.
It’s metabolism or a trending schism,
The reason for trauma, a held up stigma.
Conscious of
Strains put upon my flesh
When the rhythms were untied but oddly still meshed.
Fourty hundred thousand crashed
That night I severed the dream from the root of me.
We weren’t but enemies,
Strangers at different speeds.
Fell astray and fell aggrieved,
Nothing ever touch the root of me.

The telepath screams,
The seams seem to rip by different means.
Different teams surrender,
If you have wounds then you shall mend ‘em.
Frozen strings don’t work in tandem,
It’s physics and I mean it.
I’m sorry it sounds brutal,
At some point I’ll summon nunace, but it’s too early to be old and done with,
There’s so much we need to see still.
Let not sadness interfere,
Let not sadness have its will.