bright lights glare down,
shouts and roars collide with white ceilings.
thuds echo from the table
and stomps boom below.

[or how Chafon is an interesting influence, and Aegon seduced an ogre]

You built a house out of dominoes and Jenga blocks, and it still took you by surprise when it all came shattering down around you.

In all fairness, it’s been a long time coming.

In all fairness, you caught pieces, from time to time.

But you wanted to hold onto something, because everything you ever knew only told you that the only way to make a good thing was to burn the bad thing down, rebuild it from the ground up. And you just wanted to be able to be fixed.

People are not houses. They do not survive the fire or the burn or the smell of acrid smoke. They can not be reborn like phoenixes from the ashes.

You flirted with denial longer than you should have. You let the streams of I’m fine It’s okay That’s great Everything’s good. I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m alright. I’m fine, really. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. bleed into and over each other until your lies clashed a little too close, and people started to peer in with suspicion.

Rule 1 of denial: deny.
Rule 2: lie until you believe it.
Rule 3: don’t let anyone suspect.
Rule 4: minimize the damage.

Your house fell into rubble with a phone call at the end of a good day.

Because it wasn’t really a good day, just a good enough day, because you ate lunch and dinner, because your hands shook a little bit, because you had only a small headache. Because things weren’t worse, and they could have been.

You aren’t fine.

You’re breathing, and you’re going through the motions. And you don’t intend to die any time soon.

You’re existing, but you aren’t fine.

A stack of dominoes, and a pile of haphazardly stacked Jenga blocks. So build back a complete house, without the collapse. Add in glue, or safety pins, rope. Take a step back, sometimes, observe. When you see a fissure, hold steady and fix the crack. Do not avert your eyes.

You are not fine.

I would watch an eternity of sunsets
as reflections in your eyes
in their colors, you are dressed
and your irises are the sky.

Dangerous words
are the ones that slip under our guard
they nestle next to us at night
whisper treacle-sweet nothings
that trickle and slide down canals
to dosing minds,
honeying the way,
ensuring an easy passage
for the poison kept still at bay

They tuck us in and fluff our pillows
and egos
till we give them freely
those moments of sincerity,
genuine smiles and hitched breaths
their value was in their exclusivity.

We break off these pieces of truth
like our hearts are handmade chocolate
and when these snakes have us so charmed
and they are full,
they finally snap and spit.
bites full of venom,
and we see the fangs too late.

Someone must have taken a spatula and stirred me,
feelings that were discrete are now perfectly mixed together,
popped into an oven, preheated,
and maybe its okay I don't remember the ingredients or recipe,
as long we enjoy whatever comes out the oven,
perhaps even together.

there is a secret fear of mine
that I hope is unfounded
upon the moment you see
my face is white and words
that tumble from my lips
do so with frequent tripping
and ungainly finishes,
oh they do betray that I,
I am not what you expected.

Trust,
is when you tell someone your deepest, darkest, secret, and know that they'll take it to their grave unless you give them permission to do otherwise with it.
It can be quick, it can be a split-second decision, but it's something conscious, a small act of faith.

Friendship,
is when you tell someone your deepest, darkest, secret, and they stay standing beside you.
It's built on at least some amount of trust, and it means they back you up, and you do the same for them. It means you do your best not to stab them in the back, because you care about them, and trust they'll do the same for you.

Love,
*is when you tell someone your deepest, darkest, secret, and they look you in the eye, and believe you're still a good person.
It sneaks up on you, about the exact time you don't expect it to, and changes your life, rather you want it to, or not. It's unconditional, and infinite, and beautiful, because love is when you care about someone so much, you can't imagine your life without them, and you'd do anything to protect them, your own life be ******. It doesn't matter if your blood is the same - if you're friends, or lovers, or acquaintances. Love, is an all encompassing sort of thing: it isn't picky.