The man is worried, uncertain, confused.
The boy is happy, curious, content.

I am sorry

Not to be shameful of,
to be alone.
lost in the fallacy of laughter and discussion
is the pride it takes to get yourself out of bed every morning
and feel better.

Let me take you
all of you

lose yourself in the background music and the messy sheets
leave your arrogance on the soft carpet with the rest of your bags
I'll give you the release you need.

I will have you for as long as it takes

A certain persuasiveness in the shape of her face
it takes few words from her;
"I am already yours"
you're mine aswell darling

I am myself

for better or for worse.

My eyes are my own

they've seen what I've seen.

My hair, scented with cigarettes and expensive shampoo

The grey has started to settle in.

Oddly familiar characteristics we may share;

although we've seen different things
our eyes look the same.

our hair, perfumed by the same stresses

Both having beared the burden of thinking to exhaustion

a plague and a gift, to think of him

I am like you,

somehow.

Yesterday seems so far away,
I would have been different
To get back would be a cheap
and awful subrogation,
Leave the pain, back there

To the bone,
wanting so hard to be like that.

With nothing, and everything to prove.

Who are you proving it to?

The hearty rhetoric of old photos, and musty boxes of records.

I won't even dust off your old shelves,

too afraid to take a piece of you from my home.

Needing your wisdom, that's all.
To speak to myself is to speak with you,
my mechanism.
Doing the right thing has gotten harder with age,
would you agree?

of course you would, the man who wrote music and smoked countless cigarettes,
my broken idol.

Take me to that place I go to when I close my eyes
where the pillow is cold on both sides
the morning is always met with the smell of fresh coffee,
and when philosophy consists of acoustic renditions of my favorite music, and not the need to understand.

I'll sip on your sin
You can get drunk on my passion

the most lovely reverie:

you, that delicate voice.

body, gleaming with the perspired idea of what love is

mind, elsewhere
I think I'll join you

invariably trapped in your eyes

we could **** all day, leaving nothing on but an apprehensive guilt

that the other will leave once it's over.

Put that playlist on;

the one you like.

Your chest against mine
we share a heartbeat

I can count the freckles with my tongue.

How alive you are right now.

it's a kiss, a touch, a lick
it's this moment we have right now so
let's not waste a second

Make love until the room smells like *******,
and your rich vocabulary is reduced to
"harder"

I would have died for you
risked my life for you.
Fed you while you were sick
put your clothes on when you were weak,
listened to your stories with you
laughed at how they mirrored mine.
life had a different version of this story
and you died
and I died with you
for a while.

When I came out of it,
my hands were stronger,
my heart was warmer,
and you,

you were still gone.

with every breath you take I move deeper into you

the cadence of your heartbeat moves with my throbbing desire

the energy comes out of you with weak knees and a desperate etch down my spine

boundless.
the sense of gratitude when the sun comes down.
No longer can the birds look down on me
16,
roughly the amount of times in the day I think of running away from all of this.
Down from 27
its progress.

so much to do at night,
coming to heart-rending conclusions about mortality.
how many hours have been spent worrying
the life I could have saved, so caught up in my engrossed state of mind

maybe happiness would have gone neglected if life had always been easy

that's what I tell myself anyways.

And just as the oxygen left my lungs,
The flame died.

No matter the time
The place, or the weather
I’ll be with you, and love you...

To have my moment with you,
                       Press your warm body to mine
                       Your ******* get hard while we kiss

                       I watch you smile
                       while your hair drapes over your eyes.
                       I work my hand towards you
                       The goosebumps on your skin tell me you're nervous.

                      You know what you want this time around,
                       Fervently help my fingers inside of you
                       For this moment, you consume yourself in me
                          
                        I slide into you, now it's me that smiles
                       You toss your head back slightly, deep breaths
                       My five fingers wrap beneath your jaw,
                       You hold both hands on my arm as we expect
                        the inevitable release.
        
                       we look into each other
                       knowing that for this moment, we made the right
                       choice.

A difficulty to love,
a difficulty to breathe.

Two things that should be so easy are near impossible
when you're stuck
in a pitied state of uncertainty

To feel wanted

Cared for,
A forgotten dream

In my nature to want.

A man can wish, and he does.
Never expecting to find what he is needing.

How easily remembered this feeling,
Like it never left

A fresh breath you’ve given me.

I am drunk on desire,

To hold

To kiss

To ****.

To feel wanted.

A nerve was struck,
the erratic behaviours of a young mind so quickly shifted into adulthood
crowded with frantic and mindless jargon only a deeply pained individual could ever understand.
An inevitable desire to seek solace is the plague that sickens me.

Let me hold your hands
behind your back
as I ****** the life back into you.

To assume the role of the father

To assume the role of a partner

Expecting so much from such a little
fragile
boy.

That boy will try though,
everyday.

He will make dinner, he will talk with them about their problems,
but we can't forget his own

Another child was mean to him today, they all have been recently
he thought.

He might cry in the bathrooms , or on the bus ride back from school

But he will not cry at home.

They need him to be more than a little boy

They need a partner
and a father.

They need more than that boy,
but he is all they have

He will have to do.

I'm not addicted to smoking I'm addicted to over thinking

the cigarettes just help