Making Peace

I try to make peace with
them inside.
Sit down and talk.
Stay for a while,
but I don't.
Leave without shaking hands,
resolving the bill.
Reconcile accidents.
But I can't.
Sun and wind, branches,
reach to, well,
drive up, even walk,
and look.

But nothing.
I will always know it rustles,
leaves.
More dead than alive.
But breeze sounds better.
And known my heart
turns to you,with you,
well I know,
as does she.
How are you?
Bombs, destruction.
Broken pieces.
Orange cones dot my mind.
The man inside wants.

No, really, I had something for standup.
I had, and then, life free of pain,
ready at the door,
before you sat down.
Of course it was not any sunny day,
full of play.
It was surely rain, clouds.
Try to see through that.
It's angry at the moment.
Then it leaves, but not really.

Try to make a bridge with that.
The human kind.
No traffic. No talking, just fog.
I'll bring the sun to shine.
His sun to shine.
Open this heart of mine.
No. I don't though.
The lance leads to choked weeds.
They need some air.
Breathe on me; let your light in.