like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor

i touched your soul
and scribbled my name on it
love, you’ll never get lost again

if you were hurtling towards the busiest road in your town, too
with a life full of darkness only occasionally
breached by the sun
you might not think i'm crazy for saying
in that split second moment,
vision blurred by the rain or my tears i don't know,
but i wasn't sure
if i was going to stop.
-a.c.b

i’ve always loved the rain.
but today was different.
today the rain wasn’t hydrating me,
the rain was drowning me.
poundingpoundingpounding
so hard yet
i couldn’t get up,
just laid there under a smoky sky
a monotone grey
letting the raindrops hit me,
one by one a pinprick
a sting
of the cold water on my bare stomach.
i couldn’t speak, couldn’t move,
couldn’t breathe,
yet at least it reminded me
i am still alive.
-a.c.b

you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b

1764

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
  The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
  At night’s delicious close.

Between the March and April line—
  That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
  Almost too heavenly near.

It makes us think of all the dead
  That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
  Made cruelly more dear.

It makes us think of what we had,
  And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
  Would go and sing no more.

An ear can break a human heart
  As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
  So dangerously near.

We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

it's 1am here
and i can't fall asleep,
don't know of it's all the coffee
or threat of the upcoming week.
but i've talked to my sister, read my book--
i'm out of things to do.
so i guess i'll lie awake
and write some more about you.
we have pictures together on my wall,
places i'd like to go with you, my bucket list cries;
every pop of blue around the room
reminds me of your eyes.
every quote and poem and lyric,
they all sing the same tune
about a boy a girl writes about
every night by the light of the moon.
the letters you've written me
are tucked safely next to my bed,
and i still take them out to read them
even though they're memorized in my head.
maybe it's your handwriting
or the way you try with all your might
to tell me through each word
that it's gonna be alright.
so i'm kinda sorry that
everything reminds me of you,
i guess i'm just in love with
everything you do.