lies

You want to know me?

You want to understand my heart?

You should read my words, then.

Think about how they start.

Usually raw and angry

Something hurting from deep within

Not overly complex

But they are if you keep your distance.

I don't trust the people

Who try to get too close too fast;

Inside, my mind's prickly shell

Is replaced by the serenity of the written word.

Almost,

On the brink of being happy, sometime.

Possibility at the change of angle in the Angel's wings,

The butterfly's perspective puppeteered by the spider silk

It is fundamentally trapped by.

How does the fox breathe and find the grit under the grinding teeth?

What would the diamonds poking through its flesh know of peace?

What would any of you know of tempests

Until they reside in your own mind,

And wash away any duty keeping you sane and well

Supposedly breaking your heart again,

But freeing it all the same.

What would you know?

What would you know?