Happiness Was Made for You

I recall when I said it was clear,
that you never answered me, my dear
'cause it's all very good and well for you,
it's true, life is better with two.

so I hear, so I hear
is that you knocking dear?
or is my heart playing tricks again?

Oh, it's true,
how the world spins just for two
nothing else comes close,
to the red just like the rose,
he gave to you.
not for me, happiness was made for you

forever, friends, is not so long, it seems,
when it comes to forces this strong and mean
but I just thought that this time I knew
that this was one I couldn't lose

love I hear, love is here
I know my heart is breaking here
but my heart won't play tricks anymore

Because sometimes, I'm still about 7 years old...

"Words are too limited" -Sherman Alexie

Truth.
I think about it.
I remember getting into fights when I was little, and feeling dumb.
Dumb because I couldn't conjure up enough words to spar back and forth adequately.
I couldn't keep up the pace, you know? Trying to display whatever grievance or displeasure into a steady stream of congruent unpleasantness that would "win" whatever silly fight I had picked. Maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to actually give it a whirl. To try and find out that I was really good at it, only to discover that in being good at it I hurt everyone irreparably. Maybe because I learned early on that words hurt more than any bruise. Cut deeper than any scrape. And stung longer than anything I'd ever felt.
"Use your words", "You've gotta come up with something better than that", "Is that all?" -- NO, it most certainly is not. And no, I can't come up with something better, if I could, I would. And every time I use my words, things get lost in translation.
We, I, say things all day long. All the live-long-day. But do we actually say the things we mean? The things going on inside? Do we EVER really say them? Can we?
It's like...the things that go on inside our insides, are these complex sculptures, like those weird bulbous artistic kind of sculptures that nobody really knows what it is, except the person who made it. And so, we take words, like taking a needle to a balloon, and we exchange this complex 3-D thing, for a 2-D (arguably, anyway) flat, spelled-out word.
Does that do it justice?
Words, really, aren't enough.

Effervescence

i see the moon hiding stars in the sky;
lighting the way, through ubiquitous night.
also with you, though try as i might,
you're outshining all, as you're lighting my eyes.

clouds rolling on,
the season comes home.
watching tonight,
when i'm all alone.

the tide's rolling in and the cove's full again,
everything is right now, deep peace from within.
so outside you, i'm depleted and thin
and i wait for the day when i'm with you again.