I often get lost between humor and reality
I keep teetering dangerously between them
I can’t help but wince every time you say I don’t love you like I used to
it pains me that you can’t find confidence in us
In trust
Or maybe you just…
Maybe it’s the waves of old, broken on your shores
That have you fear the treachery of the sea
But these waters are of the same calm
That you bring to me each day, and most importantly, night
You are my “calm” and you don’t even know it
Or maybe you know it but often doubt it
Or maybe you crave affirmation
Or maybe you just… jest
But humor confuses me
So i laugh it off, until my nightly solitude
And my over calculative brains insists on pondering between hint and pun
See, i keep teetering,
dangerously
How the wind rocks an oriental warrior who’s fallen on his blade
And I am a man of my sword
Covered in cherry blossoms
And it guts me
When you quib about me having another
Why would i sacrifice an eternity of bliss
For whim
For whiff of wind
Tell me of a cherry tree that pays any mind for falling leaves
While it’s setting roots to withstand the lifetime of winter-bourn gusts
And no matter how hard they blow
The cherry always blossoms
But whether trunk or twig
All timber burns
So, I keep teetering,
Dangerously
Until I fail to do any else
But shut these eyes
And dream of a day
Where we’re adjacent
And those my dear
Are the future memories that
Silence my present woes
And rocks me to sleep each night
Happy,
Content,
and Calm.
