The Boy In The Bowtie.

to know one's self  in all honesty and love
is a rare thing indeed
to have all the answers before you even ask
is impossible
or what is life but an enormous equation?
constantly adding and subtracting to find. . . . something
questions are a harmony of curiosity and the power to voice yourself
if one is to question the world around them
than one must question themselves as well as some point or another
some questions
only you have the answers to;
i look in the mirror
the shadow of who i was yesterday stares back at me
indifferent to my inward pain
i see no forgiveness in the face of the person i was
no space for error
no air to breathe
eyelashes come into view
and fade to blank eyelids
just me
and my thoughts
and . . . questions
i spend a long time in this world of imagined color and freedom i can practically taste 
i open my eyes again
and looking back at me in the silvery glass
is a boy in a bowtie
his lips tilt upwards ever so slightly
as if pointing towards the tears silently streaming down his face
in sweet relief
i smile back at him
and nod my head
for now
i have an answer
though who knows
tomorrow is never quite today.
; not all answers last forever however . . .
change is a part of life.