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Please forgive me.
We both know, I'm the one that breaks.
While we both have demons,
Mine run deep.
I know you're trying to find yourself.
I'm sorry, that I'm not helping you.
But I see a garden growing in your mind.
Someday you'll wake up and realize that a boy like you is strong.
You are meant for many things.
But when the water of happiness pours over me.
I'm promised it will set me free.
But the water drowns me.
Emotion after emotions washes over me.
I'm told at age 8, "things will get better"
I'm told the same at 16.
Finally on my 18th, I'll tell myself maybe I'm not meant for this life.
I don't wish to be drowning in my emotions.
I don't wish for the life that has broken me 10x over.
I wish to be like you.
I wish to find myself, too.
But chains from my past old me down.
The hold me down and wrap around me, I'm surround by the sea.
I'm flooded and drowned with of a sea of emotions.
Is this what I've become?
A shell? A shell of who I used to be.
I'm watered down.
A watered down shell.
When one meets another one,
They talk about their two's.
If each one likes their two's,
Then one and one make three.

This Third, a living thing,
Cannot be touched like one and one.
the manifestation began when ones meet,
Falling in love with each others two's, as one.

This is how love works
When dealing with arithmetic.
It doesn't make sense, neither does love,
When one and one equals three.
Would you trust me?
Dance with me? Dance with me.
Lets dance to music only we can hear
“Let’s”
We moved our feet to the tune of a harp so delicate
That it didn’t even feel like dancing
It felt like floating so high up
We could’ve French kissed the heavens
Leaving our bodies behind
Soaking in our surroundings
Soul on soul
And that’s when I fell so hard in love
I was drawn right back into my body.
At that moment I knew
I knew that the hanging gardens of Babylon were hidden in the plums of your cheeks
The lighthouse of Alexandria was dug deep into your iris
That who ever built the temple of Artemisia was inspired by the wonders of your mind.
I was never good at dancing,
You didn’t mind at first
But I stepped on your toes one too many times,
And with every apology I blurted,
I watched the light in your eyes grow brighter
That’s when I knew,
That’s when I knew that all that radiating light wasn’t the lighthouse of Alexandria
It was just reflections off all the exit signs
All the stop signs
Turn back signs
Dead end signs
You’ve always had one foot out the ******* door,
You were a runner and you were always ready
Ready to sprint so far across the country at the slightest scent of commitment
And so you ran and I followed
Until my legs felt like twigs that can no longer support me
Until my heart couldn’t beat any harder
I chased after your trail of dust until there was no trail left to follow
You’ve always had such a light step to you,
I used to love it when we’d dance
I used to love it before it had me chasing ghosts across a dessert so empty that it starts to look like the grains of sand were shards of my heart.



“I water my plants until they drown & this is the only way i know how to love”
Attended
my friend funeral
an understanding
a deep sleep
with an endless dream..
I thought I had something to write,
but instead I'm buzzing strangely
as if I'm a conduit for the lost currents in the air,
   The static electricity.
  
I yearn to untangle.

My insides are a coil of jumper cables
and perhaps I'll take up yoga.

And then I will write a story that weighs more than the factory which made the pen,
And it will be such that the whole world will read it
and weep.
And the whole world will be that one guy who rows the gondola boat in city park
because I will have left it
by the dock.
And all the people will return again and again
To purchase another ride,
To sit in his boat and glide on the water
and hear him tell the story,


And their tears will fill the lake.
The man who rows his gondola boat in City Park makes his living this way. They say that just before the storm* he felt it coming so he sank his gondola boat down in the water, and when the storm had passed he returned. He swam down, released his boat so it may float back up to the top and it surely it rose, unharmed.

*Hurricane Katrina, 2005
If you have me, you want to
Share me. If you share me,
You no longer have me.
The pain of the needle sticking me.
The sweat of my hands.
The tensions of my muscles as I deal with the pain in my hip.
The gratitude going through it.
The outcome is what I was looking forward to.
I got a tattoo on my birthday
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