I could be at the top of the highest mountain,
and no one would hear me.
I could be in mid morning rush hour traffic,
and no one would see me.
I could live a thousand lives,
and no one would know me,
but me.

When I whisper secrets to the angels,
they do not answer,
why speak to God,
when he does not know me.
It is more less like writing a letter to Santa.
You pour your heart and soul and deepest dreams and secrets in,
and the letter never makes it to the North Pole.

When I paint the town red,
all that is seen is my body.
When I sing,
all that is heard are the vocal personifications,
but no one is really listening.

If I hop the sea bus and cruz down to the island,
I am surrounded by dozens,
but still I am alone.
When frictions rise with fury,
my thunderstorm of hurt and misery is not seen in proper perspective and is with major distortions.
When Happiness occurs,
it is brief, and never lasting.

When I hurt with deep pain,
my tears are never cleansed away,
they are painted over by shades of purple, blue, black and shinny lip gloss shades.
When my eyes are being truthful,
I pull over my black shades.

When I try to be authentic,
I come off cheap and mundane.
When I am true with myself in every way,
it is met with the greatest of resistance and disappointment.

When I think I can trust,
I am betrayed, and cut.
When I am lying, I am invisible.
When the duality of my universe turns inside out,
I am falling down a well and forgotten.
When I am fighting like a warrior,
I am ambushed.

If it can not be everything I was meant to be,
if I can not love freely,
If I can not trust,
nor speak,
nor be heard,
nor hurt,
nor bleed,
nor find sanctuary in any covenant,
nor find placement or purpose,
what left am I to have?
What more am to wander?
Must I leave this place?
Can I?

Could in one moment I tear away the pains and woes of tragedy and start over as someone else?
When at every moment, every pulse, every breathe I want to take away all the binding strands of time and forget and allow myself the chance to grow and have the moment for myself to just be whatever I'm going to be...
Would it happen?

Is there really a kingdom of Heaven? Or even a Heaven at all?
A place where it all forgotten and washed away?
If so, how do I reach this place?
Can I leave behind those I love and befriend?
Can I sweep away all to which I have placed my affection?

What moment will it be,
how will it come undone to me,
when will I be able to just be...

Me

Tosses a Red Rose