Where have you been, where have you gone?

I thought I saw you across the sea,
forgiving and forgetting,
but you always told me you could never spit that bad habit out from behind your teeth,
the one that would continue to burn the roof of your mouth from the edge of your fire tongue.  

You said it was because you actually felt something.

So I wondered where you have been,
and you held up the maps before I could focus the telescope,
but I did see the back of your head,
filled with grime and character.

I could have swum all night to get to you.

And I questioned where you have gone,
I could have plunged into the creaking sea,
to swallow me up and casually toss me on the ground you have walked upon,
but I didn’t because I couldn’t tell if it was you from that far of a distance.

I ran out of options.  
I pulled on my tangled clothes to consider the grey areas,
since there isn’t much left to do.

This world has gotten heavy, deep, and lazy, throwing out the old and in with the new as if

We are just trash at the curb waiting

Waiting

Thrown out with shame on our hands.

These days are growing old with our mouths full of selfish words and ugly thoughts of how to protect our skinny bodies from the swelling danger inside of our stomachs.

I never knew how selfish we could be until the daylight broke our silence and you grabbed your things and you left that day.
You left me for the burning desire for another year to exhaust a young girl’s lungs by never letting her thoughts hide in her tightly bounded hands.

Her hands used to speak to the paper.
But then she just spoke to you,
and you never understood her verses,
the language she caved into so easily,
that gave her strength to sit up straight and grow.  

She could grow for days,
writing like that, gaining everything and losing nothing.
Or losing everything and gaining nothing.
But what does it matter anyway?

That’s when you got sick of her,
throwing her out with shame on your hands.  

You never could face it yourself,
gathering the little bit of pride you had left to cover the ******* letters so clear in front of you.

You couldn’t bear that she didn’t need to rely on you anymore.

I met you at the circus so we could sit down and talk,
but you just wanted to tell me,
“you’re a different kind of beautiful, you drive me crazy.”

I could taste your character each time we fell into each other,
throwing each negative idea into space, like it could actually disappear,
evaporate so to speak.

You thought I felt weak,
giving me excuses to live by and waiting until you figured yourself out,
reflecting on the last girl that fed you compliments,
but secretly had other men on the side never crossing your line of vision.

My voice was limited,

Icouldn’tputtogethersentences,
because you handed me reasons to feel nervous and light and alive again.

But how long will that last,
how much more will I endure?

And I’m writing this because there’s not much else to write about, considering you leave me hanging by the threads on my jeans and I almost can’t breathe when you are around.
I gotta talk myself down from this,
the packing and going and running and returning.

Funny, you weren’t listening and the strings I was dangling on stretched and wrapped around my fingers so I could pull myself back up.

They expected you to be too much,
The funny, light hearted boy they always begged you to be,
So you gave in sacrificing the battles you
Hushed down deep in the pit of your stomach for a good laugh to create the mindful machine
To destroy the unspeakable Wars flowing in your veins.

And you still wonder why misfortunes are settling heavy on your thinning skeleton,
Forces so unbearable,
The coffee stains on your ill fitting t-shirt prove
That the sleepless nights have gotten the best of you.

Sleep doesn't come easy for those who can't let their worries go.

You blame the God you never took the time to understand,
He has always been the one who has filled you up to the edge of your mouth with
Hatred and Fire and Fear.

Oh, the fear is breaking your backbone,
Burning your every thought onto the next and the next and the next,
But when you drive your inconsistent thoughts and complaints down the throats of your parents, It has never felt so good.

Breaking them down to your level helps you breathe.
It eases you to darkening sleep,
Knowing they are worried just as much as you have always been.