You want me to tell you there is a word and a reason for everything,
That god will find you in a note.
That truth, is something that can be explained,
Or spotted like a firefly in the dark.

You want love & life
To be something simple;
Roses on a bedspread or a hand clutching yours.
You want hate & death
To be brief; a wound to heal fast as it was cut, a soul to grow strong
In just one night.

Everyone is, quite little,
And large all the same.
It would seem the universe is pulled at both ends, held taught through force
And pressure.
You want me to say, nothing hurts when it’s over.
As if you knew there is an over.

But truth might be, I suppose, easy and harsh.
I don’t know. And, I don’t think I will.

Walking is good. This I am sure.
Walking is good.

Walk.