if i could write anything beautiful
that didn't have a thing to do with you
i'd have written my way to the moon and back
on a path built of college-ruled yellow lines
i gave up on writing
the first time i heard you speak
even my own words mean nothing to me
no pen could procreate the sweetness slung by your tongue
what's left to be said
hasn't even got a proper spelling
he used to range off-key
on nights he'd sing to me
well i'd fake a smile
and pretend to not account for
the fire running my spine
that never let me whisper to his lobes
"you're doing fine"
i just couldn't lie
to a face like a shelter dog's
and he'd lay next to me
as if he couldn't even be bothered to dream
as if all screens are unwelcome
when what you're trying to stitch is a sail
another night time nice guy
with a needle between his teeth
faking bonds between the bed sheets
those sheets though?
those sheets got me
you left a good few scars, a relatively crooked-set jaw, and a woman strong enough to know it wasn't worth it.
i dropped to my knees
digging deep for water
and felt the clay take shape beneath my fingers
this is home
so from the dust i sculpted doorways
lifted up walls
and made myself a castle out of the sand
now i drink beer at the edge of paradise
and ask the thirsty to come inside
and play in the shade
i never ask them to stay
but neither do i point them towards the door
it's tough work tending to a secret garden- what good is a secret, with no one to whisper it to.
she exhales in outcrops of lilies of the valley
and cries with the echo of a landslide
but when she laughs
the sun himself rushes to brush against her burial mound cheeks
and pretend he was was the spark that launched her into bated birdsong
shoutout to the sun beams, and mom's mossy gardens.
i pressed the moon to my breast
and took light to heart
now i see clearly when i fall apart
and pull myself back together
with nebulous lassos
learning how to love yourself the right way, is starting to seem to be the theme of growing-up. finding people who love and appreciate the mess that you are under the shape you fake? serendipitous splendor.
arriving at a peak in the valley
i've never once proclaimed to the hill i've climbed
"i have conquered you"
i've always seen it the other way around
"i am yours now
your treasures and secrets are yours to keep
i only ask that you share with me your view"
i want to get highhh (in altitude), so hiiiighhh (in altitude).