Two winded voices

         The experience of two winding stories. The daring,
spontaneous and the slow shy voices. Kindness upon
both and neither one overpowered the other.

         A bit of sadness rolls upon a cloud of
bouncing gray joy. Oh how the tables turn and the
tears of frustration unwind.

        To pray, to hope and to dream. But how? Why?

        Only the dancer in the reality can explain
but she doesn't want to be found. Too harsh of
truth awaits her. Sharp corners tear into her
fluid movements.

         So careful the smiles are. Not too big and
not to small. A sound of imperfection but radiant
beauty befalls. Opening the door to anyone who
wants to enter.

          Yet the quiet one is so absorbed in silence
that noise is great thunder. Still the glimmer
of happiness is vibrantly displayed throughout.

           Does anyone want to know? The voice of
me, so many sides and yet no one asks. Just
assumptions crave their air. Funny how so little
know all sides.

            Wow and those who do shrink back. Sad.
So sad. Two worlds tied. Not choking just
braided. Still the hesitation to admit any true
bond exists.

            How closed everything has to be. To sit
in darkness and laugh. Showing the real redheaded
shine, smile to the rarity of the sky.

            Not quivering in shadows. Just observing the
entertaining people. So softly I whisper. Just
hold me. A vain attempt to gain more strength only
to feel lost.

        Perhaps the goodness of me. Standing, enduring
and pushing to hold head high.

         Though you who know me, my strength and
courage is dying. So encouragement is needed, desired
and craved. Alas to openly say would harm.

         So the voiced parts of me burst yet restrain.
Possible to understand, talk to me?