When you come from a place
Where holiness seeps through your skin to sing in your veins,
Being here begins to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
"This world doesn't compare
To the sanctity of home."
Like getting to witness infinity in all its unending glory
And being expected to return to mundane normality,
Nothing will ever quite manage to meet your expectations;
It's never good enough anymore.
"I can't remember the last time
I was truly happy..."
Once you know transcendent grace like Heaven,
Beauty will begin to make your chest tighten,
Birds, Bats, and Butterflies will drown you in envy;
"They get to keep their wings,
Why can't I?"
When you see a certain flower, you will weep for Eden.
When that note in that song plays,
Your heart will swell and you will sing
"But this voice can never
Quite get it right."
The sky will make your shoulders ache,
A gust of wind will feel like home when you close your eyes,
But when they open again, you will be thousands of miles away.
When you bleed, it will make you sick
"It should be gold;
It's not right, I'm not right."
Once (if you're lucky) you will see a face in a crowd,
You will lock eyes,
And you will know that you are one and the same.
"We will both continue walking.
Someone who understands hurts worst of all."
YOU ARE READING
Le Cygne
PoetryThe words of a dying swan. They vary greatly in length and content and I am extremely infrequent but I'm moving at my own pace and trying to get things I find important out of my system. Bear with me and in time I'll bare my soul to you.
