Monday, January 26, 2015

Tints and Shades

Don't we all

Forgive our lovers
Soon to be lovers
Imagined lovers
Their foibles
We turn a blind eye
To their flaws

See halos where others don't
And allow the haze to hide the horns
Blemishes apparent to them
Invisible to our clouded vision
There's comfort in our prejudices
Solace in our imagination

We don our tinted glasses
To blur the blotches of a frail character
We camouflage crimes
Obfuscate offenses
We squint, we blink, we look away
We deny, we justify, we glossify

Because to burst the bubble of belief
Would be too hard to bear
Uncoupling too far from comfort
To be lonely is to be lost
Because identity is never isolated
And to belong is worth the price of oblivion

Better to stay imprisoned in our illusions
Better to remain ensconced
In our cocoon of conveniences
Our sentinel of sentimental attachments
This fortress of fog is our haven
To be cushioned in clouds is bliss

Because superheroes are dead
And what use are our armors
If they're far and not entwined around us
To protect our tender hearts and egos
Because saints are up in heaven
So we kiss the feet of the ones beside us

We put our blinders on
For the eternal ecstasy of
Evening embraces
For the luxury of lust
The privilege of pairing
For a lifetime supply of kisses and caresses

After all, who else could endure
Who else could dismiss the lapses
But the one who loves the most
The one who knows the deepest reasons
The one who sees the hidden motives
The one who's already given to the point of bleeding

Because maybe it's all damn worth it
Maybe the end will justify the pains
And in the meantime we hide our minds in shadows
And drench our hearts in numbing potions
And fog up our goggles and reinforce our helmets
And we stay and we love to the point of blindness and amnesia

And in return
We become heroes too
Objects of adoration
Beloved beneficiaries of gratitude
Saints saving sinners with imagined halos
Loved with and without conditions

And we too are forgiven
Our sins concealed under comforters
Our faults forgotten too
Our freckled pockmarked faces filtered
By eyes beholden, tinted, shaded, blinded
By hearts held captive by time, tide, and the turbulence of togetherness

Don't we all?


Restless, listless, like ants are crawling under my skin
Anxious, aching; feelings simmering into a boil
Disconcerted, agitated; the pea under my bed is growing
Seething, bleeding; finding words to paint the color of my angst
And failing