All is Well

It hurts me how much you love
The way you stutter when she speaks
The way we share conspiratory smiles
Every time you talk to her

It hurts me your adoring face
The way you guess at your own heart
The way you are unscrambled by the world
Yet so closed to yourself

It hurts me to forget
Exilerate the pain
But all is well that becomes okay
Numb hands can feel nothing
Conditioned reaction anyway

Some sort of masochistic joy
When I see you walking side by side
In the absence of green-eyed monsters
There is nothing to consume me
So all is well that becomes okay

Cold hands can feel no pain
On slippery streets we walk together
As we share raised eyebrows
And she tries to guess
All the while you have no idea
Trust me
Better this way
Than too much ado about nothing

Neither fair-haired
Nor golden-eyed
Both dark and pale
And cold as ice
Leaning towards the campfire heat
So easily different circumstance
But better this way
Feel the joy
For what is happiness to a poet than a purpose better served by pain?

All is well in wintertime
Secret confessions muffled in frost
Under the still silence of the snow
Walk hand-in-hand
With black heart's shadow
The sugar-spun melts
Revealing below
The dirt, the grime
The bloodstained secrets
That someone buried away
Nowhere to hide
Nowhere to sleep
Revealed to the world for all to see
But spring has a long way to go yet
Until then, everything is white

There is nothing here to see
Nothing here for you to hear
The words I taste are heart's confessions
No secrets to be sniffed
But all is well that becomes okay
Heartbeats numbed with cold can feel no pain.