Once I know that I'm not magnificent the wire twisted around my heart will slip away and I will be content with peacefully dying at 90 and having everyone forget my essence rather than being chewed up and spat out by the universe gone by 30 to encounter some sort of immortality to leap across the length and breadth of legacy. But to live in a calm contented rhythm, to let go of the panging in my lungs to be more than human. the secret is beyond me
I left one day, when I thought that I was an alien. The brief pilgrimage to the sky, I have spent passing through Dover Beach and the Wasteland. Barely a life in technicolour, a half-unconquerable soul. The popular nothings dance, eyes so dark within their sockets. The sun looks soporific on their shoulder blades, to the point that we can’t convince ourselves we’re still the same. I wish you could see the veins of earth, pumping beneath the waves. It’s a story I long to write for you- curious but not yet brave. Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth, I am too afraid to disturb the universe. One day we’ll all be stories that get told, told incorrectly. My tale will grow old, so I leave.
The fish, like people, swimming in sync. All swimming around a tank disguised as magic- a world pretending to be beautiful. The only difference is the sense of indifferent certainty. The fish completely accept how small they are in the myriad of birth, death and evolution. We are doomed to question. I feel that they are accepting of futility rather than ignorant of it, as believed by most. The sharks are the most magnificent, they have power to destroy yet they live through peace- that is the most beautiful phenomenon of all. Most of us, all of them, seem unbothered by this perpetual routine. My eyes begin to mirror the contents of the salty tank, filling with magical mystery. He echoed my thoughts. The boy I am completely inlove with kissed me under a sky of turtles and whispering kelp. That moment exists with the few that convince me there is more than an ancient, repetitive cycle. He is alive with me. Believes that I am more than the half-life I am doomed to live. Always my first love to have awakened my belief in grace, my craving to live in the unconquerable light. Teal glow, shark shadows and moon-cold kisses.
We look to the stars because they mean nothing. Nothing but the mirror of what is thought and felt by the beholder. All the chaos of my heart is inhaled into the dark sky, where I make my own constellation to understand what makes no sense.
Charting and analysing the spheres of flame that fell into the night by predestined accident as if they hold the greatest secret of all.
They hold wishes that fly, souls that have died ad a sense of perspective that cannot be traced anywhere else. While the subways around create the perfect sound for my emotion fatigue, I'll paint the dusk with something new. No on will see the same stars that I do.
the car smelt like it had once belonged to a rental company the car smelt like cheap cigarettes had been puffed too many times we turned out of your hospital home, always filled with disinfectant, gummy bears and sulking roses, machines beeping. I saw a rainbow hug your room I thought that maybe you were being showered with the possible blessing of life. but that was just a reflection of my greatest wish. you were gone.
you see the world in shades of sun. can you teach me how to do that? how to envelop everything with such love & compassion that the world is incapable of breaking you. don't hold me. don't carry me to the river. I already love you too much to see you leave. yet you are free of me. you're free of any insecurity that grabs at the hearts of the rest of us. and I have never met anyone whose eyes are most beautiful when they cry