I must silence the madness,

For it grows like weeds,

Untamed without your touch.

Only your chestnut eyes,

Your raven hair,

Your crooked smile,

Can slice through the tangles.

I wait for your return,

Like flowers waiting for the sun,

Patiently, and full of hope.

The time apart is maddening,

Breeding rapid waterfalls,

From my long tired eyes.

Until your lips may touch mine,

I will silence the madness,

With a step simple, yet pure.

For I look at my hand,

The spaces between my fingers.

Why that shape, why that size?

And then, my love, I know.

Each space belongs to you,

Your hands made for mine,

Like lock in key,

Bound eternally.

Loch Lomond,

Where two hawks fly,

There was a lad.

Come by the hills,

The wild mountain thyme,

The shamrock and thistle.

The dawning of the day,

The collier laddie,

Jamie Raeburn,

Lowlands away.

Love is a stellar collision.

Two stars unattended,

Gravity binding them.

The desolate darkness,

Ruptured by their slightest touch.

Volatile, unruly, boundless,

They traverse united.

I am a shadow,

Crawling amongst my own.

My path is endless,

Yet I always lie a step behind.

My path is endless,

Unless the Sun dies,

Then I blur amongst the rest.

The Sun is my creator.

The Moon is my mask.

I am a shadow.

Bounded at dawn,

Boundless at dusk.

Forever condemmed,

To walk amongst my own.

You are the one I dreamt of,

Dancing through my dreams every night.

I awake with a smile,

For you are there,

With sleepy eyes,

Beside me,

Always.

For me to be honest seems almost paradoxial. The multitude of my lies outweigh that of the times I have smiled. These twists of the truth land with a certain grace and ease, as if each little white lie is its own snowflake. Beautiful individually, perhaps. But they build up, and when they do, I become entrapped in an icy snare. Every lie gives my heart frostbite. So why, you may ask, do I lie? Well, it is better to have a cold heart than to have one with daggers protuding from it. Letting someone melt your heart will lower the shield that protects it. I am not saying you should cease to love or care. But if I were to finally be honest, I would say that you can only ever trust yourself in the search of stability and security. People speak words that fall like pristine snowflakes. Do not be fooled by their gentle gliding. Every single delicate snowflake will bind together and form a storm that will engulf you, leaving you out alone to freeze. But if your core is already icy, then you will not feel the pain of the betrayal. This is my moment of honesty, before I resort back to the winter months that I call home.