Angels and Treasons

If I can make a small element of myself available,
I feel a little more at ease.
It’s not always making myself accessible,
As it is just being here when needed.

A slight flaw, a terrible misunderstanding
Carries so much farther when
There is already so much distance between us.
It feels like treason.

It’s hard to understand, why these things happen.
We talk and we smile,
But some how the cherub that I know is there,
Can seem so sly.

How can I feel like a barricade is my only way
To win in this situation
Or better yet, why that I need to win as if a fight?
This in itself is treason unto ourselves.

The way we were, the way we are,
However we wanted it to be;
It never makes sense when I’m here, you’re there.
It’s lost in hills between.

I find that an hour after I’ve first seen you again,
Everything else is lost.
The confusion, hurt, and pain of being distanced
Is just few and far between.

We’ll fight, we’ll wrangle, all words strangled.
It’s all so humorous after.
A way for a memory, just a break for later,
But then, it’s certainly treachery.

All is for now, and all that was for the gain.
We’ve passed that jazz,
And cut the Past wrap it’s all just
What-nots under your sleep.

Well, where we have to go and what we will be
Is all to be decided and recorded.
Floyd is still there, and you’re still close by,
I suppose the rest is just walking distance.

To ponder on what’s next, and what life means
Is all just part of humanity.
I’ve heard the unexamined life, is not worth living,
For otherwise, would truly be treason.