Do you feel the weight press against you?
The weight of cold pressing truth.
Does it force the guilt from your pores like oil?
No..I see it is light as a bubble…. truth lifting its way out of you
With a merry grin and promises of eternal friendship.
Oh..the divine freedoms of nothing more!
Alas, loves confusion is my bed of nails,
And, it seems I am tucked down tight.
My too high pillow is stuffed full of whispered wishes
And wet with a river of tears.
Oh what delicious torment to be started through happenstance!
What does it matter if purity of intention,
Holds me from freedom of heart
If both leave me lonely?