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The epidemic of conformity consumes all
Children play by board game rules
Stifled by the world to paint a proper picture
They draw flowers of red with stems of green
Fields of wildflowers viewed as weeds enveloped in insecticides
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet
That is a rainbow, in that order alone
We are taught to live by the colors in a box of eight crayons
But even so, those colors cannot make a proper rainbow
A rainbow should be praised if drawn in mixed-breed hues
That field of flowers, natures pallet
We should begin with a box of 124 and grow infinitely
Where lilac dragons can live in cherry trees
Where those waist-high weeds hide the predator from the prey
For where would we be without cops and robbers, or hide and seek
In a world where out of sight incites widespread panic
Children's laughter in the sun is slowly silenced by the rules
Instead, embrace the joy and encourage creativity
We should harbor imagination and develop unreality
For it is there that is born the ideas that will form the future

it is my unseen lover
it caresses my dreams
and weaves beauteous nightmares
my closest friend, it walks with me
our hands entwined in better days
and cradles me tight against its breast as I falter
though feared by so many,
it is comforting in its consistency,
in its dependability
always there, it never disappoints
close enough to feel its cold breath envelope me,
it feels like home as it moves like fog through the cracks in my soul
And my heart can almost feel whole in its bitter embrace

Heart stuck in gray dawn. Subtle remembrances, consume. Longing for more. Lingering for, "used to be".  Vulnerability in pain gambled for strength in love.  Held in place by promises.

Spoken words deny
Actions scream in love and pain
Hearts splinter and crack

Time cannot heal what was not meant to be broken. Change is slow coming.  Dreams of warmth take hold, trying to leach into reality so abruptly ripped apart.  Something once so perfect, so beautiful in its purity, in its simplicity. Forever tainted by selfless gestures turned selfish motives.

Promises broken
Dreams relive yesterday's bliss
Stopping tomorrow

What's good for one, not enough to sustain.  Love enough to last, pushed under, forgotten. Lost to fear. Submerged in darkness.  Yet, there lies the sun.  Warm and alive.  More than a seed, a field of flowers ready to bloom.  Still, flowers of love do not bloom in tears of despair.

You are the warm sun
Watered by my salty tears
Flowers turned to hay