You're like a conversation that I carry in my head
I can't remember voices, I've forgotten what you said
But just because the words are gone, devoid of any breath
It doesn't mean I've let you go to die a little death

I wanted to make room for both our bodies to be near
They hold the very thoughts that I was certain I could hear
And just before I recognized the face that covered yours
I put a lock inside of me to keep away the ******

But I can see their shadows making shapes beneath my feet
They're pacing 'cross the floor all day and night, they never sleep
I know I told you everything, I hope that you did too
For now that we are separate, remind me *what to do

When everything is heavy but you cannot feel the
weight
You must've put the balances on someone else's
fate
And that was the beginning of the end that you will
see
A shallow recognition of the life you chose to
leave
It happens all too often, people give themselves
away
Accept the hands of others when they think they cannot
stay
But even if the truth puts reassurance in their
heads
The power they possess is like a prison for the
dead
Because you aren't walking and your feet are not your
own
You haven't the ability to set a different tone

Give them to me.
All the pieces of your broken heart.
Give them to me.

I'll take them.

All the rough-hewn misshapen bits of your shattered dreams.


Give them to me.
I will take them.

Give them to me.


They are wanted here.


All the parts of your misspent childhood. All the regrets of ticking seconds behind you.

Give them to me.

And we will build a cathedral. A stained glass window of who we are as tall and as beautiful as it should be.

Let me have them.

And we will make a mosaic that stretches as wide as the sky. Showing every color your heart gained from the bits and pieces left on the ground.

I will take them.

And forge a sculpture of how beautiful the ideas are that we cast out in our failings and we will cast it in our failings.

Let me have them.

And we will ***** a monument of all the small things in the shape that you remember them.
Towering. Looming. Striking. Beautiful.

Let me have them so we might bind the words said and regretted, (or worse) left unsaid in leather and call it scripture.

Our Psalms. Our Proverbs:

“The tip of my finger dangles like my tongue. Wanting to touch something beautiful.”

“If it were not for him, it would have been us.”

“You were all my brightest colors.”

“I wish I were more like you.”

“I wish I were less like me.”

“I am sped.”

And we will read them at dawn like litany.

Stretching our voices to the corners of the universe. Asking for the wishes you make when you are scared. Or alone. Or both.

That we may take them.

And make a blanket.

A blanket to cover our childhood and let it rest at last.

I will take them.

All the parts you no longer want.

Give them to me.

Because they are what make us beautiful.

Give them to me.

That I may forge them into pitch and feathers and craft mighty wings.

That I may take flight from your worry. And soar on the updraft of your misconception.

Give them to me.
I will take them.

Because I would rather burn like Icarus than to have never dared to fly.

Place your hand upon my chest.
It reminds me how it feels when it's mended.
Then use it to cradle your head while you rest.
The worst of it, like the day, has ended.

I was asked
this night
where
do
your words come from
so I
answer this day
my words come out of
what is me these 7 year cycled words
and some
when I was eighteen
and some in my head
or so it seamed
I married a woman
and she gave to me 2 fine children
both doing well
as she left me
for the man I got to fix her car
and ran off with him
so I have become hard to hurt
like a diamond in the sky
and me and myself.

also 2 great Grandchildren.