poetry

I feel like singular thoughts don't have to be consistent with one another. You can feel and think one thing for a moment, then all of those thoughts could disperse like pollen in the wind, lost forever. I respect my mind for these kind of things, I really do. Every thought that contradicts how I know I feel creates a challenge for my heart. It's like my brain is trying to trick me into figuring out who I truly am. Poetry captures this, and shows that the transience of thoughts can be used to capture life's twists and turns and the beauty of it all. One moment you can feel at home in a person's arms, and the next you can feel like a stranger...but only you know what's truly there inside of you.
That's what this poem is about. Love is both fragile and infinite, but we are taught to constantly question it. This isn't a bad thing because all we want is something true (at least, I do). There are moments when I have been so angry or upset that I have questioned my love, and was then forced to look deep inside of myself to understand what I really feel. That's hard to do, sometimes.

Loves and seasons pass alike
Their songs become kisses
from ghosts. Whispers
that stumble and falter trough dark rooms,
caressing my ears with
te tenacity of a distant bell
wrapped in a blanket.

Faces, lips, and bodies. They
are notes, eaten from the
palm of a hand that once
held a symphony.
You are an incision in ice that was exposed to the sun.