One day you're laughing in Durango,
Looking across rivers at rainbows
The colors so vivid, lights so bright
you can almost see the happiness jumping out of your eyes.

You would've never thought laughs,
Would become echoes - far from your reach.
The rainbows you once saw turn to stormy black skies,
Those eyes that once shined - now glossed over.

You said we'd see these rainbows forever,
I cant see them through my tears.

C.k

A Warrior they say
A gold medalist
The one going home with the 1st place prize,

But I have won nothing.

If they had warned me beforehand
That years later I would still feel this

The whiplash

They are liars.

A Warrior that has won nothing
A Warrior that keeps treading
Climbing a mountain I'll never see the top of

My mind is tired
If they had warned me,
Or even given me a heads up,
I wouldve ended it there.

If they told me that everything I have been through,
Would bleed onto everyone I love
Causing them to stray from me?
I dont want to be a Warrior.

Does a gold medalist deserve eyes that don't want to open?
So pitch black that they can't even see themselves through
So tired of watching their life crumble in their hands because of things that they can't let go of.

You win a first place prize by helping everyone else,
By covering it all frantically before they open the door to shield them from knowing,

You don't need that first place prize.
Who runs to you to gain theirs?

We are barely holding on.

But 'we made it', right?

You're wrong. You all are.

To say that I can't look at me would be an understatement.
Looking inside is too harmful but in order to look outside I must look in,
A constant battle within myself, really.
Do I flip a coin?
Or perhaps leave it for a later date for when it's built up.

The day comes almost as fast as the excuses that escape from my mouth.

To say that I am selfish, well, that you are correct on.
Never being heard, Constant battles for attention, and a sprinkle of being the only person there for "me",
I'd say I'm doing pretty good.

If you stop and really think about it

We are not withering

We are simply creating what was not yet

C.K

Its the unbuckled seat belt,
the eyes chasing the ceiling fan,
stiffened brows that typically move to the sound of a drum,
fiddling fingers desperate to escape themselves,
an unheard Playlist that used to be the favorite,
the locked windows and doors,
clothes put everywhere but their drawers,
the under fed stomach that isn't hungry
or an unmade bed that's always messy.

Maybe you should just stop stressing

I reach to each side of my bed at night
In hopes my arms will reach far enough
To be able to touch your skin
And pull you in close

Stretching our hands out to replace our fingertips with soft-brissled brushes.
Intertwined into each other as if there were no possible way we were seperable.

Our brushes went straight to work,
Slowly and gently sweeping their way over each remarkable feature so eager to comprehend them,
But too quick to linger.

Swiping off dust here and there, prepping the perfect canvas to invest our minds in.
The heat of our bodies so emerged brings a calm sense of eternity to my mind,
What's happening on your side?

The brushes slyly move off to work again,
Working towards new discoveries about us, who we are, where were going, what were doing. Each one a new reason to love one another more.

Our brushes are still dusting for now.
I reach over and find you next to me;
and they release their paint.

C.l