Mistaken for brothers, and maybe that's true
Before our departure, I’ve some things to say:
Don't die with your music still inside you.

From boys to men, together we grew,
Nostalgic memories of how we’d play.
Mistaken for brothers, and maybe that's true.

Twenty-five years, each version brand new.
I’m proud of how you’ve carved your way.
Don't die with your music still inside you.

You stayed close when I switched my crew,
Loving a man we once called gay.
Mistaken for brothers, and maybe that's true.

For you, there's nothing I wouldn’t do.
We’re growing older, slowly turning grey.
Don't die with your music still inside you.

I’ll always be there, even without a clue.
Live your life fully, don’t let it decay.
Mistaken for brothers, and maybe that's true.
Don't die with your music still inside you.

I could only keep my full omerta
when that one and only friend of mine
turned away and
lay his slender body
on the chaise longue

Those doe eyes now wide closed
as the ascot came loose

And his voice croaked
in a dull monotone:
“It's not my desire to cast Love aside, like Alberich and Wotan did
—as others do as well.

I was forced to do it all,
before Love could've launched, Its long-schemed
most arcane betrayal, which had been planned
in minute details, since the day
we were born.”

in my life,
ive called three girls my best friend.
one i haven’t seen since i was five,
one i wish i saw more,
one i wish i never saw again.

the first half my hand on a playground,
the second held my hand while i cried.
the third was the reason for my tears.

and now there’s a fourth.
i don’t love many people like a sister,
but she’s one of them.

i would tell her all my secrets,
cut myself raw so she can see the real me.
shes so honest,
the kind of friend ive only read about.

but im not the only one she’s a great friend to.
im selfish, i know.
i wish she wasn’t such a good person,
that she didn't give out kindness like it's endless
that i could have her to myself.

but i cant.
because she’s my best friend,
but i'm not hers.

i dreamt of you last night
each detail so vivid
that i mourned the loss of you
all over again by morning

i thought
that after endless summers
the abyss between us
grew so large now
that i could no longer
remember your voice
yet there you were
sea drunk eyes sparkling
full of such hope
asking for one more night
as if i was your centre of gravity
your smile brighter
than all the suns

from the first moment
i knew
that our love
was the one thing
i'd never recover from
burning across my sky
like a star falling to earth.

She is my luck, my success
She is my purity, my hope.
She acts as my protection
and shields me from those
who hurt
she is my
beautiful
tiger lily.

When the time comes
When my heartbeats begin to fade
My eyes begin to flutter
I hope to see you there

Your floppy ears listen
Your crooked tail wags
Your smile grows wide
While you stand by my side
I hope to see you there

My best friend
My shadow
My furry soulmate
I hope to see you there

You are the happy friend.
You seek compliments but you don’t believe them.
You can’t be the messed up friend because they have it worse.
You can’t compare because they won’t see it as bad as it is.
You are the happy friend.
You are the funny friend.
You are the safe friend.
You let them vent, you let them share.
You take the burden so they don’t have to. You carry their weight-
adding to yours.
You don’t let them see.
They check in with you but you know you can’t say anything.
You can’t trust them with your feelings. They don’t need more on their plate.
They can’t handle it, but you can.
You can’t be delicate.
You can’t be hurt.
You are unbothered.
Because you are the happy friend.

It’s starting. I feel the taps.
I glance over my shoulder. No one there.
In my mind? “Hey chum, got time to spare?”
Time slipped and left the dreadful gaps.

“Hey chum, care to wake up?”
Reality calls. Eyes on us. “Help me out here?”
“Sorry chum, nothing but void.” A nervous tear.
Get up and pour some coffee in that cup.

Dear mind, we need to talk.
“Cease your violent tapping, leave me be!”
Eerily quiet, but the shadows glee.
Dim lights. Senses rest during a late night walk.

Hopeful dawn. Tell me a story, my friend.
“Look at you, chum! Paying attention!” Rising stress.
His lips move, his words roll. Tap tap. “Mind, please continue to process!”
A fleeting tale, instantly lost. I was there for you, yet absent.  

A mind deep as the universe, yet without gravity.
During daylight, always beckoned by fantasy.
My thoughts fade away, my memory fails. I swear it’s not apathy.
I try not to drift. Please bear with me, for your love is my necessity.

you always made it look easy  
to pry back your corners,  
carve out a piece of your heart  
and transform it into soulsong  
Your words and rhymes laying perfectly over your intentions  

snapshots of your soul  
painted in love and pain and blood,  
whispers in your synonyms and syllables.  
I saw your soul laid bare, and in my heart it was just for me  
each of your tomes a secret glimpse to savor  
so brash to see myself in some  
and cowardly to hope absent from others  

so I wrote.  
stumbling after your eloquence,  
fumbling and unpracticed  
without any of your skill or precision,  
clawing at myself for something  
I could offer, to speak to you  
in your own language  
as if some small piece of you still belonged to me  

which makes you my muse  
of a sort I suppose  
For truly every time that I wrote  
I wrote for you.  
not for you, but to you  
to read me and know me  
my heart pressed between the pages of a book  

and we communed  
as close as 1’s and 0’s would permit  
through lines on a screen  
never able to reach past our fingertips  
a call and response  
in codes and comment boxes.  
A secret conversation between us,  
that not even we spoke about  
until we didn’t speak at all  
but I can still find you in the lines  
and imagine you are talking to me

Whenever I read your voice  
Draped across the tree-tops  
In misty strings and fog  
its ships sailing.  
  
Wind-whipped sails ripple,  
Wave-wake slaps along salt-worn planks,  
The smell of ropes and rigging.  
  
The feeling of open skies  
And unfathomed depths—  
Swirled green, turquoise, black  
Sea dragons and sailors,  
Treasures, charts, and pirates.  

You skip so easily along the tips  
And tops of the world.  

Horses run across water.  
Wars and lovers both rage  
As the ground shifts,  
Tides bulge and bow, ripping at the shore,  
Tectonic plates slip and crumple  
Shaking the world's foundation.  
It revolves in orbit,  
Balanced on the tip of your tongue.  
  
I am cross-legged,  
Listening to the way the world is  
Watching birds cut the sky  
Bleeding onto the clouds  
Listening to the creak of your mast  
With envy.