Mother, Father
I am six foot one and I can see over the trees
I can **** mountains and bury my bones in the soil
I am six foot one and I am just tall enough to see the truth
I can look over others but I can't look over myself
My shoulders bend like a bow, waiting to break
And I can feel it all. I can feel it all.

And to you,
May your temporary smile be a golden forever
And your heart existent with or without hope
Let your brain open doors your hands cannot touch
And your chest not collapse when the smoke is too much
To live and to love with you is the grandest adventure
And to cut myself on your edges, bleeds into itself
And to live in your heart, is the biggest place I've ever found
And to kiss you until my hands break and there is no sound

And to all of us,
We're a dark piece of trash
Ribs are a cage and holographic souls sing
Disenchanted by the human experience
We're pretentious and objectify everything

And to all of us,
We're all light, we're all eyes wondering wide
And we all shine bright, some of us cannot hide
May your hands slant, slowly slinging
towards the bells that are slowly ringing
and may you strike a chord in all of us.
May your existence be a temporary forever.

Punk lips in perpetual paralysis,
and they're too afraid to let them kiss.
Too afraid to try to let it last
because of the blurs in their past.

I think the kids are in trouble.
Hanging out with temporary people;
making the wrong times never stop.
Smoking dreams with glass lovers
to indie sonnets and neon power pop.

The world knows they can pretend,
and it's their hearts they can't defend
from the illusion of what they could be,
and the loneliness of what they'll never see.

They skate the pavement until the sun sits,
and drink ***** from water bottles until their hurt slurs.
It's the preparation of tomorrow and what it may not bring
that makes every moment before, everything.

They're scared because it's real,
and I'm scared because they're scared.

This poem is not about you.
     This poem is about the candles that I no longer burn because the scent is the seasonal smell of you. It is about me trying to give them away to my unsuspecting friends and them knowing the history behind a jar of ******* wax. It is about the nightstand that holds the candles behind all of the others and makes me forget for a while.

But this poem is not about you.
     It is about the love that I ordered off the internet and gave to you. It is about wondering whether you sleep with it, or stuffed it in your closet, or burned it. It is about the scent that I wrapped it in, that I no longer wear, for it reminds me of you being reminded of me.

Though it may sound like it, this poem really is not about you.
     It is about the melody that I no longer cry to when it hits my ears. It is about how my obsession with Iron and Wine crashed after we danced. It is about how I obsess again and can do it happily.

     It is about how I can write neutrally with an undertone of you.
     This poem is not about you.

So how did I become the kind of person that I am
By changing every part of me I couldn't understand
I wonder what I'll find inside the skin that I suspend
Or maybe what I've lost is more apparent in the end
And where is all the evidence I carried on my back
The weight of it has turned it into something inexact
A haziness pervading what I once believed to be
The only inconsistency I wanted to perceive
Secure in all my shakiness but never unaware
That I was going down a road that wasn't even there
And maybe in my head I thought I'd save a place for you
Until I came to realize that's something I can't do

You pull on my lip like an aircraft emergency oxygen system.
Our engines catch fire
as our tongues flutter like the wing's peeling metal,
and as our eyes peek at one another
between each plane crash of lips.

We've lost cabin pressure
as we can no longer control our bodies.
We gasp for each other's breath
as our shimmering structures
roll around on the sky of my bed.

We kiss like we've only got seconds left,
when in reality,
these moments will never die
even if we do.