tranquil corners

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.