I pose for you trying to find my repose,
The act of stillness is exhausting.
I search for silence, but come up lost,
So I bury my mind in madness.
An ostrich buries its head too (but for clarity),
and I know only flamingos.
Forgetting to counterpose, I ache.
On the days I remember, I still burn.
Looking to elevate my mood I review rooftops,
and recognize that they require ambition.
Today I am lacking, so I seek comfort in creatures
with lower expectations, (mostly because I do not understand them).
I try to touch you without touching you with no success.
Thumbing through my notebook for inspiration,
I instead stumble into a fall on accident.
You used to think I'm beautiful
(and probably still do).
It doesn't matter either way as I am not what you want.
I go back to pose and breathe - balance out of reach
(like your arms around me).
Like a tree I stand; my limbs, free, while
Rings rage internal.
Someday I will come to terms with birds
and accept pigeons among doves.