Reaching,

Reaching. 

Amidst the shadows within a delicate frame

exists a picture perfect image of a heart out of reach

Claiming love to end a war -

a speaking sin wrapped in eloquent lyric 

while it reluctantly beats to a rhythm which synchs with each breath taken

becoming harder to catch

Held captive in imagination

coloured through the dreamer's eye

A vibrance that sorrow cannot seize with it's indecisive touch 

As an overarching theme of hope illustrates the empty corners of a panicked mind

Thunderstorm skies rip through an artificial sunshine

stripping truth down to it's original lie.

Dead eyes coupled with attractive smiles that only prove a latent heartbreak being swallowed by fear

chased with skewed perception

and laced with a paralyzing vulnerability too potent to feel

Startling silence demanding the full attention of each suppressed confession

Holding back as a means to not disturb the falsity of every subtle glance of playful admiration -

It is only painful rumination

Smacked awake by forceful self realization

Flirtatiously dancing upon a line that divides half truths and full lies

Where every word sounds like beautiful poetry

saturated in deep metaphor just to further the intrigue

While masquerading honesty for the benefit of self-disclosure 

Hanging on to what is left of that summer's dying glow

While memories filter through the cracks of clenched fingers

For they no longer belong to the dreamer

And existed only to be cared about later in winter's harsh and bitter wind...

Yet, amidst  the shadows of a delicate frame,

A picture perfect image of a heart still remains

And although it may be broken and even more so, out of reach

Never has it looked more beautiful to me.