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Day Dec 2015
-

it's winter again and here we are, the same loop that caught me up in
your whirlwind last time now making home between your lungs as your head
rests against my shoulder and your face finds a place to nuzzle against my neck.
i wonder what's different as i watch your hand reach for mine and then i realize it's because
i learned to grow without you and grew without you from one long moon to the other.

-

when i called you a sunbird, i didn't mean a phoenix,
even though i didn't know it then.
see, it's been an entire year and i've learned how to create and swallow flames whole and stomp on
the ashes and even though i'd scattered yours and wished for you to rise
from them before, now i wish i'd dug my heels in a little better and cast them all aside
for good, buried you too far that you wouldn't be able to find me again, dosed and
dosed and dosed until there was nothing left of the scuff-mark under an ocean.

-

maybe i'm just bitter.
and some part of me loves it. it's a vicious part, who's still searching for that other half
and knowing now that it was never in your hands and even if it was, it's been passed off
and i won't find it with you.
great tragedies are written for stages of life, not the makeup of entire stories, and
i'm not about repetition. you already got your chapter.

-

there will be days that i start purely about me and that will end purely about me.
regardless of anything, i vow now, that i will make sure of this.
i will find (an)other boy(s) to sleep beside, just sleep beside, and i will love it and you will
hate it and i will love them. i'll be looking at them like i looked at you and you
will look at your phone each time it buzzes and hope it's me and
i won't even think to text you.
i will be selfish, ******, and karma encourages and assures me so.

-

i was willing to wait eternities.
i was willing to wade lava and tread air and hold my breath until you wanted but you chose to
snip the string that held me to your wrist and now i've found freedom in the sky and i feel
broken and torn and incomplete but infinite and i found all of this without you.
you're too impatient, and you keep wanting to 'prove to' me something you and i both know
doesn't exist. only children get mad for getting back what they'd already given out-
and i'm sorry that i'm not for not wanting to be with you.

-

i wish you didn't love me now.

-

i wish it wasn't so easy not to care.
-

Someone once ended a poem with a quote that said ""Missing" is a part of moving on." (- Unknown)
Just in case any skylarks wanted to know how to remedy this ache. Trust me.
Day Nov 2015
you're breathing in, your chest expanding
and i can see the hymn on the tremble of your lips
your eyes are searching mine in a frenzy and i know you saw cinnamon turn into hurricanes
so you're quiet again and i'm relieved and you're protected and i'm free
yesterday you'd wonder if i could feel the butterflies in my stomach-
well, honey, next week when i'm in tennessee i'll wonder if you can still feel the acid burning in your throat
we were never smart about this- i flip and you garble
you sip and i swallow
we weren't made for tomorrow
and i'll be battling morals while my lips press to jack's, watching you watch me
and wondering if it will be evan next or ezra or- oh, who gives a ****, i won't remember their names
it's sick, maybe, but the greatest lesson of barrel and sky is
this won't hurt if you numb it
---

i drink and regret too **** much
Day Oct 2015
i have a way of losing things:
time, minds, love.
Day Sep 2015
there's a peace rising
against the horizon and
it bathes the ground in gold-
and i'm breathing in deep
beside you and the air is
lavender-kissed.
i don't know what it is yet
but i'm free and ******* i'm happy
closed chapter
Day May 2015
ares,
wake your son.
tell him the battle will go away if he keeps his eyes
open long enough.
tell him that his mind is his greatest
comrade and enemy,
and that he does not need to know
when which is which just yet; but to
trust himself enough to
live with the consequence of either.

ares,
wake your son.
tell him to find his mother within him,
and not look to you and your plights as a
reflection.
he was born from love and war,
love and war,
and more time was spent in the womb of
the prior; that wars have been
waged for the word,
and resolved by the same.

ares,
wake your son.
remind him that, while the
sun does not revolve around him,
it depends on what he determines his
sun to be.
may he have many
and learn to appreciate them equally.
i am too old to keep making stars.
the sky is full.

ares,
wake your son.
press your thumb to his forehead,
wrap your arm around his shoulder,
he needs to know that he is cared for,
though i cannot understand;
who has he met that has told him otherwise?
touch him only if he asks,
but read his eyes- he is asking.

ares,
wake your son.
the son of war has battled.
tear him from the lip of vulcan,
remind him of the mistakes of troy,
teach him what these men did not have
that he does.
if he does not,
remind him that while he is your seed,
he is the nephew of athena.
promise him he can learn-
he can.

ares,
wake your son.
the son of love is loved.
wake him to remind him he is alive-
poseidon likes to play games,
and he seems to have gotten to his mind.
he has not yet drowned,
and he never will.
****** will bring him up with winds,
it is up to him to fall or ride them.

ares,
wake your son.
he has grieved too long
over battles he has not yet fought
and may never have to.

ares,
wake your son.
***
- apollo
Day Mar 2015
for you,
suddenly the idea of how different we are sunk in too quick.
you're the moon and i'm the sun and we're
playing a game of tag around a roadblock that
moves around us, so there is no escaping-
this is my life and this is yours,
but i'd spend every night ignoring it
in the palm of your hand.
i'm ready to take endless drives
during light-less skies, cancer
burning between our lips,
tension melted away as you race the speedometer,
your hand tapping my knee to the off-beat of a
song i want you to love as much as
i do, because you're too scared
to hold my hand-
i would, i would,
please let me.

.. you say we can't.
and i want to climb back but
i already fell and
there are no ladders between
space and gravity.
*
(not necessarily written from my perspective)
Day Feb 2015
play with your teeth on the edge of the fence and
bite down too hard,
smash them in, then smile like
'baby, it doesn't hurt'.

play double dutch with my heart strings.
tie them into a rope then double-
knot it around my throat,
i'll admire your craftsmanship (you're an artist, you know).

to dribble your heart on the pavement wasn't my intention and
****, i have good aim but i was never good at
the follow through.
my hands get unsteady when i have to commit.

twine your fingers together and then press,
press, press down until you're numb or broken or
always, you're always that way.
what's the difference? blame me.

i hurt you and i cry about it.
i didn't mean it.
it's tomorrow. we're young.
we forget.

i warned you what this was before it
even began- or maybe i was a
day too late because i love you.
bells ring. there's clarity. i'm bad.

either way, i'm sorry, Bruce Wayne.
we got too serious,
why so serious? distance and destiny
made me into your ******* Joker.
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