What I do best

              So grateful the expressed tears have fallen.
The necessity of sarcastic laughter has to vibrate.
Quaking the soul into a lively cord of simplicity.

             Ever so kind is the cool breeze upon pale
forms. Drifting across so silently and calming.
So perfect yet not. Just a slow form of numbing
occurs as the sighs appear.

             A bit of decadence shakes up over the
sense as the beating of the pulse thrives harder.
Indeed the reason to breathe.

            Though I wonder, did I? The one inhale
that escalated so much and yet nothing seemed
to move. So clearly is the need for the
calmness to overcome. Ah to stand tall before
the howling wind.

          As I do. So softly I exhale. Hoping the
day becomes more and more relaxed. Gaining the
conversations not forced. Ah one can hope,
deeply, tremendously. Almost childlike, perhaps.

         As best as I am allowed I whisper the words.
Cautiously not to define the destination. Only
are the needs to break the dead silence. Yet am
I even allowed that?

        Slowly I laugh once more. Throwing the words
of my thoughts into the air. Careless that to many
I appear talking to myself. No worries. The expressions
of weights now lifted.

        Granted my concern, my life is none too less.
So I keep holding up the rigid pieces just so the
bits scattered down knock me down.

         Yes a day without conversation is horrid but
alas I have survived years. The tears roll, the shivers
erupt and the mind calms. Inhaling once more
that strength given.

        Ah yes, still, quirkiness pushes through. One
more day to swallow the glazed smiles. A present
given to those who do not know and for those who
cannot dig deeper.

       Indeed tragedy is there but I keep moving.
Tis what I do best.