Can We Not Dream?

They treat out hearts
like open sore with bandages
too tight to leave feelings
or words for what we are.
their pious kiss
their pious throne

When will our beauty return?
when will we be what
we've learned?

Our passions pass
If I'd buy green
my life would ease
my soul would feel nothing
but shame
the darkest place.
I sit in guilt
I sit alone.

Can we not drea?
and escape what it is
we've become