Sheep’s Clothing
You were not a wolf in sheep's clothing that was hunting them
You were not the deceiver
Nor the liar
You were the friend doing everything you could to fit in
Donning a cloak of wool and hooves
Hoping your paws and fur wouldn't be a problem
You didn't know you could bite till they got too close
The morning was filled with a blooming bubbling excitement
The morning was dotted with star-crossed memories
The morning was spilling and pouring out of my cup
The morning dragged itself to a quiet demise
The morning creaked, groaned, and ached through a long goodbye
The morning was a stuttering dead engine
The morning glowed with an overwhelming radiance that consumed my soul
The morning breathed new life through every noisy vent in my house
The morning was dampened with an ever-thickening mist
pulled by strings
a doll made of wood
sits under the oak tree
bugs and dirt adorned
a girl made of wood
her strings cut
her eyes non-existent
she is face-blank
it doesn't speak
listen for the footfalls
they've come to bury
a doll made of girl
a cavity in place of heart
a void in place of spine
wood doesn't beat
even though it lives
she's been cut down
carved up and varnished
she is perfect for the viewer
i could write a thousand metaphors
surrounding water, fire, earth, air, and everything in my eyes
i could write a thousand poems
no meter, rhythm, or style just form and words
i probably will but they won't be enough
enough being the unachievable mission
there aren't enough beautiful things-
museums, art, music, books, nature, space, and people
-in the world to replicate the way I feel for you
you are more than enough for me
you are my impossible