We fight and lie for different reasons,
but we fight and lie.
We fight and lie in different ways,
but we fight and lie.
We want different things.
We feel like we need different things.
But really we’re all looking for the same thing in different ways.
At times we find it.
But when we don’t,
we fight and lie.

Why do I build windows
when the world offers none?
Why do I build windows
creating a shadow
blocking my view of the sun?
Guiding my vision, framing with precision
and keeping me locked on the pane;
It hinders my gain, blocks out the rain
and gives me a view to rely on.
But without a door and without a floor,
without a roof or a stoop;
I’m left with a window
that’s casting a shadow
and blocking my view of the moon.

The vase is blooming,
but the flowers are screaming;
The vase is blooming,
lost in the dream.
Viewers are looming,
but the flowers keep screaming;
Viewers are looming,
forcing their dream.
Silently, stoically, subtly, statically
the vase keeps on blooming.
So I will wait in this room,
watching it bloom,
until the flowers stop screaming.