The best truths are told with fingers tied
behind the backs of the greatest liars,
and for every time I've heard something too good to be true,
I remember this.

I remember fists,
clenched tight while wishing my body
would disappear in high school hallways.
While I fought against myself halfway out the door to homeroom.

I was “that kid.”
The one who sat with a half eaten lunch
where prying eyes couldn't touch
for fear of people watching me take a bite of what sustains life.

I wanted to be the emptiness that creates a star;
the friction of aimless atoms collapsing into one another to fabricate something beautiful.
People are unmerciful, because I’m still waiting for gravity to do the trick.

I’m still waiting to be worth more than a second pick.
I’m waiting for these shaking hands to stop and hold their fingers steady.

The thing about a star, I learned,
is that when we are staring at Orion’s Belt,
we are looking approximately 1340 years into the past.

I can only hope that my body can last
until I can see my own light.  
I’ll keep trying to force my spine
to sit in line with the rest of me;
keep trying like a lightening bug to create my own stars.

I could have been a carpenter
With a callus on my hand
Or a marina worker
With my feet inside the sand
I could have been a historian
With glasses and a globe
But I’m just a lowly laborer
And my bones are getting old

I could have had a bank account
With lots cash and dough
Or a white picket fence
And I’d watch my green grass grow
I could have been successful
With sleep and no stress
But I chose dreams and passions
And still I feel I’m blessed

I could have never met you
With your big red sixties hair
Or could have never shared a night
In the starlight of your stare
I could have never known the truth
Lived my life a lie
But honesty has found me
Loving ‘til I die

I could have never realized
What a lucky lad I am
Or could have never battled
For what I believe in
I could have given up on it all
And laid down in defeat
But my love you do inspire
Me out onto the streets

I could have been a carpenter
With a hammer and a nail
I could have been a fireman
With a hard hat and a pale
I could have been lot of things
For there’s so much to be
But if I had to pick on one
I would pick on me