Can I trust the eyes seeking mine?
I want to
Because they look like home
Through sepia tones
A bittersweet nostalgia before
We learned how easily people break

I want to trust your arms
They look just big enough to hold me
When I know the only way I feel safe
Is in the shape of a ball

And if you were any more beautiful
I’d be *******
Much like the ten beers I should’a
Said no to
Before you
And they
Had me sycophantic and stumbling
And already
just a little bit
*******

I want the smell of you to linger on my clothes
The same way fire does
After a book burning
Just a little bit shameful

I want you to stop my stammering
With a kiss
To preoccupy my mouth
Long enough to subdue my stupid

I want to let go
Of the fever that makes my back sweat
When I see you
And the worry
That your eyes might lose their shine someday

I want you
In all the ways that
I am probably not supposed to want you
But I do

I want our wrinkles to one day fit
Like ****** up Ziploc bags
It’s that bad
So kiss me
Before I tell you that

And maybe
keep your eyes closed
Until I can trust them
Because I want to

Woke to the smell of smoke
Only to find my family
Standing around our couch which was on fire
Like a group of homeless people trying to stay warm

This is just practice
For when the money runs out

Forget the missing smoke detectors
Forget the old man just standing there
Saying, “I’m sorry” like old men do
Forget four walls
Walls are flammable

There is this distance
The size of apathy
And we
Are in the middle
Huddled around a fire
Trying to stay warm
As our house burns down around us

Until finally
Dry lips whisper water
And ***** lungs
Die for air
And I grab a hose from the porch

As the smoke finally clears
As they huddle in the car
With the heater running
As I learn to finally see my home as broken

Still
I will always have a safe place to cry
And we will always have a safe place
To lie

Breathless and still, he stood there
And still fell the rain
That soaked
Saturating every fabric
A darker shade of lonely

Rain
It’s his favorite color
So he stood breathless

All silent save for a lone heartbeat
Pulse in his ears
Like a sunken head in still bathwater

The steady rhythm reminds him
He is still living
And helpless to stop it
Like the rain
His favorite color
Darkening his view
So it can be brighter again

He knows
Fathers will forget when they get to that age
And brothers will always need rough love
When it is hardest to give

With hospital

And phone

And car

And credit card bills

Still in his hand

Getting heavier

And darker

And wetter

He stood in his driveway
Breathless and broken
Buckled at the backbone of forever
Never finding center
But for as long as the weather permit
He was at least happy

Ugly started the moment air filled lungs

Making breath

That finally became wails

Hollering heavy and hollow

Into an already upside down world

Something completely ugly made us

Unless beautiful is unto perfect

And perfect is unto unique

And unique

Is the pattern of pock marks

A bitter snowflake reminder

Of the days my blemished face has bled enough

A broken pattern of scars

From the cancer

And first suicide attempts

And tattoos

That remind us

Whatever is left behind

And is still standing

Is permanent

Including me

Beauty is unto statues crumbling

Still standing

Despite times blunt chisel tip

Let’s be broken down to perfection

Because there’s all this beauty inside

Inside awkward snowflake patterns

Of nervous breath

Making my voice break

During the days when I need to be the most confident

Like when I finally tell you

I love you

And mean it

This messed up mound of flesh

Was given life for a reason

Even if it is just to love

Whoever is around to be loved

I can do that

Despite the hand tremors

And broken toothed smiles

And bitter snowflake reminders

Of ****** up fingerprints

Smudging everything

I touch

I can do that

Because this

This is as beautiful as any of us are going to get

And I am cool with that

Forgive me for my silence

Just that

My mouth has only ever been good

For ******* things up

I know

The cherry pie you baked your heart into

Still tasted like the lucky side of copper

I know all that sweet

Is the only way to keep it down

I know you might think you deserve this

You don't

These scars are not some secret cuneiform

There are no answers waiting

In the long nights you wish would just end

What we all keep forgetting

Is there is always a place of rest

You can rest here

In my silence I am still learning that

Still learning how to properly hold people

Still trying to get my timing right

Because

When is it ever really a good time

To say I love you

I know we’ve all been told

These types of things get easier

But even if they did

I wouldn’t want them to

We are supposed to be complicated

Like my awkward silence

While staring you down in a parking lot

Wondering again

Why I didn’t say what I was thinking

If you wanted to know

I was thinking

My hands have only ever been good for squeezing

And my heart has only ever been good for pumping

And my mouth has only ever been good

For ******* things up

So forgive me

Just that I wanted to keep you here

A little longer

Forgive me for my silence

Just that

My mouth has only ever been good

For ******* things up

I know

The cherry pie you baked your heart into

Still tasted like the lucky side of copper

I know all that sweet

Is the only way to keep it down

I know you might think you deserve this

You don't

These scars are not some secret cuneiform

There are no answers waiting

In the the long nights you wish would just end

What we all keep forgetting

Is there is always a place of rest

You can rest here

In my silence I am still learning that

His finger fidgeted with the small hole in his jeans
Right above the left knee
It caressed the rust of a healing scab

He knew boyhood was sitting at the tense end of a slingshot
While balancing on a thin branch
Creeping in through the window
Of his tree house

His shins were permanently bruised
From hitting the edge of the bed
After jumping and missing
In order to avoid whatever may be living underneath it

Ten years from now he will regret
Not being in enough family photos
And for placing too many boxes full of old clothes
Underneath his bed
For anything to truly live there

He will know manhood sitting at a red light
Begging the breaks to go out
So his only option will be
To go

When he is old
And so much a baby again
He will beg time to be patient
Long enough to understand

Why when he was a boy
The slingshot band never broke from the tension
Before releasing rocks to break windows
He had to spend the summers working off

But as a man
Trapped at a red light
Why not once
The breaks ever went out
So that he might have an excuse
To go