The lies cut and the truth burns…

When I was born I was innocent,

When a child, ignorant,

When a teen, arrogant,

When grown, emphatic,

Today… fallible,

Tomorrow… idyllic,

But forever… forever, I will be enlightened.

Raw... just doesn't cover what my heart feels today. The world is dimmer... darker. The dawn didn't smell as sweet and the bird song was just a daydream's mist. The optimist in me is bleeding... poor thing. Red eyes, slashed hands, and bruises like collar of dark flowers, decorations above the heart.

Wish I could tell her that by this evening, everything will be rosy, clean, and bright. But, those words would paper-cut my lips and taste a lie on my tongue. I wish I could hold her to me and tell her that it's not the end of the world, remind her that we've seen worse, felt worse. But, those words, the truth, would scorch from the inside out; leave the stench of burnt flesh in my nose.

So, if the lies cut and the truth burns... silence. Maybe, silence is safest. Stillness. Serenity. Silence.