soften your gaze, the angles aren’t your heart / put the razor away, wipe off the years you aged last month.
muffled voices tell a sharp story
a heavy burden, honey in your hair
you try to cleanse yourself, shake off the stifle
you find it gets worse the higher you climb.
brown eyes so near to black / your smile swirls them grey;
in less than 30 days you’ve traveled miles closer
to where you want to be
away from muffled voices, loaded sighs
from anxious rustling and friends who take pleasure in telling lies.
it’s refreshing to be alone
in clean cotton silence / in smooth, rounded peace.