Rain

There is a reason for things having to change. We may not appreciate them, but we must accept them.

I'm still just me. Learning to love, learning to live, spelling things correctly.
I've come to realise that not everything is to be understood.

Things are changing
Faces going from strange to familiar,
To strange again
In one surreal blur,
Lost, awake and unafraid.
I know home from its cinnamon breath.

Things are changing
And you
But you stay the same
Your fear of mirrors
Your love for flight
And the scar on your brow

She sang in the distance, lost in the field:

We’ll run away, join a circus
live off the land, on fresh air and
Cigarette smoke
Curling away from your lips
Grey, but the happy kind
I see the dead wind dance
Like your tongue behind your lips
 
Things are changing
I can feel it when we kiss.
And your happiness
Drawn with bare fingertips
And remains of dry blood under your nails
In molten puddles of wax
Those candles kept us up
These candles help us sleep

Things are changing
But the nightmares are now pleasant dreams
And the demons wear flowers in their hair
Dance like the waves
colliding in farewell
Praying for rain.
There are no tears

Out here in the fields, things are changing
But they’ll always
Never quite change enough. 

Happiness will find me, and stuff.
Thank you for just being there for me.
If nothing else - for you, I Will Try.

I love you, Cohen.