Flowers are growing vivid in the structure of my brain.
I sense them, the roots travelling like baby powder
trickling down my back.
Embracing this thought,
I inwardly grimace and
dance a dance of hopeless optimism.

Why are the words we use with one another
so often filled with bitter accusations?
Why do the smiles we shed like skin
reveal nothing of our hearts inside?

Landscapes are vibrating within the mental plane.
I lightly touch the symbols that promise
to bring happiness within.
Living this awareness,
I frantically calm down
and sigh the tones of acceptance.

Why do hollow eyes never speak
the truth they hold inside?
Why do we so often pontificate
when in truth we'd rather hug?

Legends are beginning in the internal world.
I structure myself into the dashing
ice cream melting in a bowl.
Being what I am,
I mention only expectations
and become the stress undone.

Why do we devote so much time
to distancing ourselves from others?
Why don't we just mutually confess
how much we all genuflect the same?

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