ode to torn thoughts
looking into the calendar i see a very simple day none-interested opaque grey sky of gentle rolling hills of silence dotted with occasional bird calls soon, all will break loose with abandon, joy and excitement fiery display of love and affection childish explosions and declarations however gaudy it may appear or shallow and pink it could be may be off white and precious much like a new child's dress no expectations or worries of mud or dirt on the trims i package myself in cynical wrapping paper and gather courage to look right through the faces of lovers of friends of couples of human bonds instead i close my eyes to dark space of silence instead of sharing a heart i am tearing a heart or two.