For butterfly wings,

Our kisses were gathered and sewn.

Seeing you, I die.

Sitting in this room,

                  S e a r c h I n g     for    b r o t h e r s    in my head,

Not the ones  I’ve always had;
those that are united by a common womb.

But the ones who have infected me with a  lush sense,
an unspoken quality,
who have a presence so surreal,
always speaking to my soul.
My non-birth brothers,
Criminals of the same shade of blue,
Boys with the pain of a quiet kind,

Paramount people in a pickled world,
Oh my  brothers,
we are lines in the sand,
Definite and fading.
You are the ones,
the ones who meant something
To me.

[Insert friendship here]
Press yes if it meant something.
No, if it didn't.

Young uncertainty,
My head is on your shoulder.
Darkness consumes us.

The world is full of two kinds of people:

the ones who will pop back into our lives for forever

&

the ones who won't,

where the goodbyes were unexpected and better
off never being mentioned.

You weren't someone who was ever supposed
to stay,
so I should have felt your goodbye more.
It should have stung,
sweet relief.
Goodbye moon.

Once I realized I could,
I gave this cause

everything.

For once,

I wanted to be someone's first and foremost option.

“I've grown to trust you 85% of the time.”
----
“What about the other 15% percent?”
----
“You can’t fix everything;
some things are not fixable.”