I know you won’t read this
and I know you won’t care
but I will tell you what it was like.

It was blurry.
it was slow
but time was running fast.
It was dusty feet
and dusty souls.
It was feeling nothing
and then all at once.
It was hating you
to drown the urge of hugging you.
It was writing a poem
and post it
wishing you will relate to it.

But who cares,
you don’t.

To stay out of trouble
is to live in your bubble
'Don't mingle'- not subtle
when you end in the rubble.
Became a social butterfly
only to hear the distant battle-cry
as arrows struck you from up high
& you began think, 'I'd rather die'
than carry the weight- 'misunderstood'
from societal challenges- understood-
risk your peace - do you think you would?
to become a figure - appearing 'good'.

Sometimes
the best thing about being young
is things can still seem incredibly romantic.

Sentiments wrapped in sweetness
that have me gazing at stars,
checking the clock for 11:11 to send up a wish.

Some part of me,
only a fraction by now,
still believes that there's magic in the world
and maybe two people
can be made for each other in some capacity.
maybe happy endings do happen.

I was pretty sure
that the world was just going to keep spinning
the same way it always had
and that I was wrong
for wanting to throw it off its natural course
but then you called me yours
and I found myself slipping.

Maybe,
my 11:11 wish for happiness,
my sentiments of sweetness,
my dreams of what could be,
would throw off someone else's orbit
but they fit perfectly in line with yours.
and so I cling to the moments
we gaze at the same sky

Because the best part about being older
is you know not everything is romantic
but sometimes they are
and that makes me believe in something.

bury me with spirits i betrayed

ill fall wherever your name is laid

every second that I breathe

i will chip my life away.

i will drink

i will smoke

holding words never spoke.

redemption, ascension always slow.

self harm like a mark on a stone,

im proficient in being alone,

loving walls like my life's on a reel,

but all that's real is already done.

You were made from light, in glory,
Not from Adam's rib, my dear,
Like in the fantastic story
That in churches we do hear.

You have always been appealing
From the moment you arose
Because Eve means life and feeling
And this everybody knows.

You're a pillar of creation,
All this world with you began,
And a goddess of salvation,
And the other half of man.

In your absence, man would suffer,
He would matter not at all,
Wouldn't sin and would be tougher,
But his soul would be so small...

She sees the pain you hide,
A conversation to get by.
Speaking ever so loud her voice,
Is taken.
Only to be established by
A mistake.

I failed to love round, but fallen flat,
My head slumps down, over an ancient map,
My eyes roll back, over the mappa mundi verge,
Where waterfalls purl, and the sea serpent-sleep lies curled.