We speak too often of "love"
The power
The ability
The emotions
The breaths taken away

These words will never be enough
So I want the silence to drip into your veins
A protest from talking over my own tongue
Attempting to convince you of our "love"
Confessing a white flag surrender


I will hold my breath to show you
The intensity
The magnitude
The ravenous
"Love" I possess for you

My hands still fall asleep when I am writing about you.
Reminding me that your galloping blood was a national geography marathon I never wanted to go off air.
I can't face my palms upward anymore. Every time I try my hands attempt to grab yours.
God is a selfish man.
One I will never understand.
He has left me hear.
Existing.
The power has been out for 2 years now and my circulation falls somewhere between ice caps and snow fall.
Leaving my movements rigidly slow.
Dripping notes into an empty orchestra waiting for you, a conductor to spark my fire.

If I gave every part of myself

I wouldn't have anything else to offer you

If I take every part of you

I will water your roots daily

If I throw my deepest love into the air

Then raindrops of forgiveness will engulf us

If I weave our love into puddles

They will rise and fall upon us on another day

On days like these

I wish I could hydrate myself

With the oxygen of your heart

Gulping every ounce of your presence

Into the darkness of Alaska

Forever filling the void

Of yesterdays distance

When I was 3 years old my father was taken from me. He was never given back. A toy I didn't get the chance to experience. A memory locked in a bottle floating at sea. My father. He is still alive. He is having an affair with drugs and sleeps with alcohol. The same people who took my father have now accepted him as one of their own.

I have wanted him back in my life since before the day he left. Listening to the footsteps that echo in ever doorway I pass through. I would do anything to have my father back. So I have begun deconstructing myself. While giving him back every part of me he never had. Building a body for a man with no backbone. A fortress to protect his tattered veins. Something to plead for a path back into my life.

My hands. I will first shake your hand. Giving you the moment to feel the strength I gained from your absence. Then I will dislocate my mechanical joints from the elbow and surrender. Maybe then you will feel the soft parts of my palm. The parts full of love and forgiveness. A path to the right side of the bed. Explore my forearms. The same ones who have build classrooms without you. But I still have a spot on my wall for a our picture. I keep it dusted and shiny.

My shoulders. A sign of cooperation. Using them to cope with the weight of regret in your bear trap chest. Without both of them you are left weak. A team that has carried the weight of the moon on it's nights the sky turns out the light. God and the devil have convinced me of difference edges of the world and met me in the middle. Use these shoulders to pack up and leave your past. Then you will find your present, tucked silently under the crust of earth at your feet.

My legs. I will never walk a day in your shoes sir. For this, I can't grasp the pain you hold upon your bone marrow. But let me lend you mind. They are full of miles. Miles to find a better tomorrow. A way to get off our worries without feeling sorry. Your blood will adjust to my feet. When this happens, our DNA will draw stories all over the map. Give us a chance to take a walk. And walk out of the glass in your captivated steps. Travel back to your family. We are broken statues, arms open patiently paused awaiting you to complete  our family once more.

My spine. I will melt into this earth and pray to my slumped body that you will stand up straight. I promise it worked last time I used it. While you borrow this could you look me in the eye. Just this once. I want to see the empty hotel canvas of a shell you run. You have been begging for vacancy for years. Here is your ticket. In the present. Not a moment behind.

My ribcage. I am keeping. This is my only defense. My body is simply a vessel of your genetics. I will easily give you back what is yours. But these ribs, they held me every night you were not there. Reading me stories of a better you. Myths about a father who loved how children deeply yet did not have the proper body, soul, or mind to do so.

My forgiveness. Dad, take these words. Digest them. Eat them in your meals at night. Watch them carved on your ceiling at first dawn. Feel them crawling through your bones. Then take this body. A offering of forgiveness. Something to give you safe travels back home. I'll be waiting. With the light on and a beer in the fridge.

Losing at winning
I lost you. In the ringing hospital machines and nauseating comfort of beds too many sick bodies have occupied. Through the stale air of the doctors presence. Into a room of 25 people each individually packaged. Wrapped in their sadness. Engulfed, longing for one more minute to donate to your blood stream. Lost in translation of recycled numbers that have bar coded too many lives already.

I lost you. In deflated lungs. Not only yours but mine. Speechless from all the things I forgot to tell you. The ones I have been screaming since. Running dry in a deserted lake bed wondering why these tears won't bring you back. The air I breathe is toxic. Feeling sticky as it slides down my throat for every breathe I wish you could still be breathing. Lost in life because you were life.

I lost you. In my finger tips. For everything I touch no longer grows. A gardener planting his lifes gain upon pavement. Praying for rain to experience everything wash away. Each moment of my days feel as if these callouses can't retreat. Creating barriers of a heart and mind. Stiffening my spine while burying coping methods under exit wounds. Hoping these scars will remind me of the time you patched my broken heart.

Her heart reminds me of a classroom

Full of words
Dripping eager
The warmth of a fire

I want to step inside and learn

Everyday
From beginning to end
From the sole of your heart

Teach me the way you love

The best I have felt in the past 74 days are the days I didn't at all. The ones where I allowed the arctic freeze to clench my veins. My Days took a leap year. Leaving us solidly broken. A times table of rejected latitudes.

We stood at the edge of the world. And By we I mean I.. And I was not standing I was crouched. Feeling out the curve of the earth. Acknowledging that we are all too similar.

We have both been walked on too many times now. Our trenches are deep and less than 5 percent of them have actually been discovered. These mountain tops of ours are hard to reach, but it can be done.

Both of us, holding enough water to give life to those around us. Enough solid for others to feel supported. Air to split atoms and remind others, that maybe this life is worth living. And gravity that keeps us both grounded.

We are one in the same. Spinning madly in empty space too big for us to understand. Feeling small in the presence of giants. Victim to our surrounds. And heated at the core.

Alone. Surrounded by nothing and everything at the same time. I spin. Becoming dizzy. Pondering the impact of actions on my crust. Waiting for someone to treat me better.

I think it really comes down to what you expect of someone.
That you want all these needs filled from artificial people who have never seen the checklist of your heart.

People that want nothing more to see a smile on your face.
A smile they can't purchase because they don't posess the currency.

I am my own country. I govern my laws. I am the one to control the happiness between my borders.

I shall not be dependent upon another being.
I shall only be held up by the same expectations that has kept this country strong and bold over past decades.

I will stand my fortitude.
Proud.
Allowing visitors all the while.
I will never turn down a caring heart.
Although I will turn down yours.

Dislocate me from existence
Put me with the stars
Far enough away to see the distance
Into darkness without reprieve
Under burned down trees
and their shadows

I do not need your voice to convince me of things
like worth
or the color of my blood
These things I am sure of
My heart writes me letters about these things

Forget about what we said we were
Remember I was alone in your company
Your words filled with hot air
Boiling your words
Evaporating anything permanent

Liberate our nerves from any feeling we might of shared
Untie my limbs
Stretching out the presence
Drenching my skin with freedom
Calming the gooseflesh upon my bones

The well in our chests hides secrets
Ones that your words never pulled
The well filled with tainted water
So I added whiskey
And liberated your grasp

I will forever forgive you
Blending business with pleasure
Drowning yourself in an empty well
Dragging feet into the desert
of our yesterdays choices

The hardest part is believe more in yourself than the weight of failure on your tongue.
The lump of give up stuck in your throat.
Broken fingertips that want to surrender.
I pull myself up by my lungs. Rearrange my insides well enough to hide my weakness.
And believe. For one second. That I can do this.

She held me like an etch and sketch
Caressing my edges unit we forgot my past
Cranking tomorrows fortune into figures and shapes
Believing in my ability to live openly
That now, is ever-changing

That now, is a masterpiece

The core of our earth gets up to 10,800 degrees fahrenheit. This is the type of heat I know I will never experience. A force so unlike anything I have ever felt. Love does not feel like the core of the earth. It is weightless.

Lifting me off my toes. Putting gravity to disgrace. The earth gave up on holding us down. We moved through the clouds together in a slur of elation.

God let us pass by with a turned eye. Knowing that power has nothing to do with love, but giving up. Letting go. Releasing every burden held between those hinged shoulders.

The universe accepted our love. Letting us glide into an ever open space of everything we will know nothing about. Our love will be translated in space as a constellation. A phenomenon we all drop our jaws to watch and will never touch.

Our love is something like that. Unstoppable, but further away than either one of us can reach. Only for the fact that if we could define this love it would not be so special. Our telescope will tell myths about us one day. This love will stand the test of time.

Whisper my future
etch them into your palms
drawing a line between you and me

Blink away my past
burn a vision of elation
one so vivid you wake me from this dream

Scream my name
so hard your throat believes you
and your name becomes one with mine

Marry me
give me the palm of my future
forever, just you and me

Im going to Alaska.
Away from all the things Ive known to harm me,
things like alcohol,
intermittent friendships,
and above all else
myself.

Leaving behind everything
with a whisk of fortunate flights
downed with a dash of relinquished hope.

Bringing the most harmful of all things with me
tucked behind reasons to live
and a view of astonishment I carry,
my thoughts

The one thing that has broken me delicately
I fester into my own brain stem
break open the doors and
flood my neurons to the point of drowning

Not a moment is left to breathe
To open the flood gates for release
My mind sits filled with thoughts of
everything about nothing

Giving me no reprieve to freedom
My thoughts and I sit
discussing things that make no sense to anyone
but us.

This is what Alaska has taught me.
Harvesting a neurological disease
with all the symptoms to show.
I broke down

I fell into Alaska
stumbling over my own pain
finding that my brain is
a rebellious sabotage of my freedom
running from all that I know.

Our curtain split in a tangled obsession we lost. My voice didn't reach off the stage. The crowd didn't applaud my entrance. The play we have been pretending to reenact is not one many have completed. Unsuccessful, we fell and the curtains draped over my pride. Pathetically practicing ways to apologize for my part I didn't comprehend.

Inside our dramatic hearts we take tally of broken parts poorly performed. Dancing intricately around life practically promising failure. I failed to see the signs. Your hips, they participated in my existence. Writing letters in a language historians can't grasp. Those letters still play in my head on a rainy day.

Our play ended with a subtle ignorance. Ignoring our ability to love. To dance away a night and pretend like we are someone else. People so urgently rushing to become something they are not. That will never be us. We will exit this stage with a bow, a broken heart, and too many lines never shared.

A teachers heart is one of learning.
Of constant modification.
Lending pieces of it at the sound of a child's voice.

What is not seen  
Are the broken parts.
The times when my heart falls out of my chest.

My child, I am sorry
My child, you don't deserve it
My child, here is safe

A heart of protection.
Showing each student their worth
Value more valuable than the words of this poem

Without you my child
My heart
Would simply

collapse

I'll bottle up the fragrant sea breeze
into tufts of baleen.
Scooping up secluded.
While pressing frequent calls of
loneliness into the fabrics of air
inside of us.
Breaking up the ice sheet
with a warm heart.
Joined by precious
ocean lull.
Ice holding moments
that already passed us.
Poor some whiskey in
let us release the past.

The moon collapsed.

The sky fell numb.

Plentiful stars watched eagerly as the earth floor unfolded.

Our worlds slowed down.

Long enough to enjoy this catastrophe.

To reach into our throats and pull out promises.

Deflate our lungs with good intentions.

Fill our eyes with things to remember.

And to flood our ears with words unspoken.

Time stood still and glanced in our direction.

Living alone in the arctic circle has challenges of its own.
The weather drops to negative sixty degrees
and during the winter months wolves watch you breath.
Although this is a challenge I have found a challenge of my own.


So, hey asked me, "Is there anything wrong, Jon?"
I tell them no.
I tell them I am fine.
That I am happy.

The cold, grips at my vocal chords.
As the tundra spreads across my veins my body numbly forgets where I am.
The mind that works all to often takes a vacation of blankets and existence.
My fingertips sent in their two week notice without the strength to give a reason of departure.

I am swimming in ice.
Whaling like a baby, with everything to say and no one to understand.
Rolling over the same spot that I swear I can melt into water.
The weather looks down upon me, with closed ears.
Negligent to the heart inside of my chest.

Running away does nothing but create distance.
My problems will never be further than the bottom of a bottle.
Finding and reaching for the tongue out of my mouth.
Asking me to accept the fate dropped before me.

Mimicry, to act or mimic another object or animal.
I became the tundra that day.
Unforgiving to the existence in my chest.
Misunderstanding to the tender chords that hold up life.
Leading on that my heart will not feel again from this day out.
Love will not play its games on my frozen land.
Being polite will never help you hear boy.
Keep running, I will keep extending my reach in front of you.
Today I became,
Cold.

The rain falls, in the form of letters and drenches my life story into the garden soil beneath your feet. Flourishing roots that are not visible to the naked eye. These roots lay in my chest. Filled with dictionaries in languages I have attempted to remember over the years.

The water drizzled into my stem.
A moment I'll never forget. a moment of growth. That I peeled back the curtains of all the soil hiding my best ability to stand tall. My knees straightened up and let the blood come back to the atom bomb I hold my chest.

Spouting my arms open wide. The letters melting off my fingertips and I to this solem piece of paper. Spelling out words of life that started from the root of my being.

Reproducing a cycle of seasons. Seasons of grown and seasons of molting. Each and every year I find myself to have a new skin. One different from the last.

This is how I know I am still growing. When I sprout I refuse to grow into something already present. I will magnify myself into something rare. Never before have I seen it.

I refuse to let the soil of these seasons determine my biology. I will photosynthesize to remember that I need to soak in the moment. That today I will grow and not stand still.

Alone lives under your breast plate

inside of you

It lives behind the curtains of us all

Take a deep breath,

now expel the broken air

You now understand,

We are all similar,

We are alive.

We are humans,

With hearts bending bones each and everyday.

With these hearts,

we love the best we know how.

Dancing.

She tipped toed through my veins. Watching my ballet recital heart bleed for an encore. Stepping into this and forgetting all else.

We walked. Like trees in the Forest. Rooted. Loving the earth for loving trees while loving the water that gives us another chance to love tomorrow. Let's love like a seed that doesn't understand what growth is. Love like we believe we can be something more. Love with perseverance that sees so much further than the footsteps we have erased from yesterday. Why not love with a withered unending presence of god. A god that is fluent in forgiveness but also speaks in the dialect of love in every language. We are not forgotten emergencies. We are a moment away from being rescued. Into nowhere else but right here and right now.

So dance with me. Spread your toes, bend your knees, and leap out of your skin. Plunge in to this. Without a moment to spare, we will love, like dancers. Fluent and gorgeous.

You were like a waterfall for my eyes only

Falling all over yourself and absolutely gorgeous

I fell in love with simplicity that day

It was as if you dropped a toaster in my water

I was electrified from the moment I stumbled upon you.

The words splashed over her lips like a waterfall I have seen too many times.

This is what missing emptiness feels.

But I don't miss the empty.

I miss everything that we once had.

I want to drop a toaster in your pool of water.

Hoping that for one moment you would feel the electricity we use to possess.

Every year September 8th takes us on more year from the last.
We age, like broken toys that are kept around for too long.
Not her though.
no this woman defined ageless.

My mother, on her birthday she lights up like a child.
We go to the fair and spend time looking at forgotten things.
like wolf blankets and cleaning supplies no one will buy.
We get lost and hope that one day we will also be forgotten.
Forget about it.

Every year her cheeks would stretch out like green fields on a warm summer day.
Beautiful and full of excitement.
Her eyes dripping with pleasure from a family mended through a date on the calendar.
The sons only fighting when mom didn’t know.
Because no on fights on moms birthday and gets out alive.

Two years ago. September 8th came around.
Mom rolled into the fair on the wheels of cancer alone.
They creaked through the fairgrounds with a hollow echo that year.
Her cheeks, droopy with chemo. Her eyes help open with attempted happiness.
The air on that day stood still. Our palms, sweaty. Our hearts, broken.

Every year on her birthday I am reminded of how happy we use to be.
I entered the fair on my oiled up kneecaps and the courage of a lion.
As brothers, we walk through the fair.
Looking for things we can’t forget. Like wolf blankets and cleaning supplies we want to buy.
Anything to fill the emptiness.

Every year, september 8th takes us to a memory of what once was and will forever be a day of her.
We age, like toys that she watches down upon to ensure nothing breaks.
Yes, this woman defined us.

I am told to take out the garbage.

To rid myself of things that are bad for me.

Every time i do this,

I feel nothing but,

Empty inside.

Our hearts.
They match in our chest.
4 runways.
Palpitations.

Our minds.
Found behind those beautiful eyes.
A reason to think.
About you.

Our mouths.
Speaking love.
Across too many miles apart.
Loosing sound.

Our hands.
Filled with nerves.
Numb to the wind,
of tomorrow.

Our hearts.
Ripped out of our chest.
Dripping with forgiveness.
Wash over me.

I watched you get opened like the front page of a book that has already been written off. They took the words out of you mouth, plastered them across their beards and chugged them down with no hesitation. We don't have time for Icehouse and regret today. The fridge needs some company anyways.

Just frost the tips of the repression that occurred every time you winced your eyes at me, I knew to look the other way because blinding my memories with hate is no way to stroll into a future. I hate you for every beer drop you spilled on my potential. I hate you for ever false promise that dropped from your lungs.

I ******* hate everything about the way you wasted space in the compact ford escort of our house.

The smoke on your breathe expels lies and deceit. You have been playing the same ******* beat since yesterday afternoon of forever ago. It has rattled a family with fortified backbones into crumbled stones in a forgotten sandbox that simply lost touch with its inner child.

I feel like this is a bark through a mega phone in the forest that no one heard the tree fall.It's evident you're not capable of the contract you magically ripped apart with pen. You toxically signed the paper that set a fate challenge for an angel who never had a chance.

I need up being the sone of a *****, because after 44 years you have not taken responsibility for a single move you have made. I am still paying forward the pathetic slacks in your line. You never even took me fishing

I want you to be my forest fire.
A natural disaster to incinerate the tall standing regrets of my past. Casting the darkness over the people I've taken advantage of and things I'' never admit to be true.
Expose my shadows.

Cleanse the dirt I have trampled upon.
Lake Tanner, I'm sorry. Mom, I'm sorry.
People whose footsteps molded my heart into a perfect sandcastle bomb waiting for high tide.
Renew my inners.

Heat up these lungs so I an no longer speak.
Burn memories into my throat,
That way my heart understand a new beginning.
Building empires of renewed crowns in my smile.
Exhaust my lies.

Let me regrow into something pure.
Away from the broken forest of my past.
Exposure into something more than myself.
Water my roots,
Watch me take flight from this earth.

All you have to do is be a man.
These words bled through my veins with disgust.

A man he said, does not smile
The flat line of his lips laid across the lower half of his face and read empty.
Shocked I was, when he told me that a man does not find joy in little things.
The leather skin palms that have seen more death than life.

A man he said, does not clean
A brain in his head, full of reasons why he can never show affection.
My arms wanting to do nothing more than wrap them around him.
Love may not be the answer to everything

A man he said, will never back down
His eyes burned, when I backed down
The ocean between will never be filled.
May the waves of tomorrow be ever calm.

As our callused palms met in between the peace treaty we signed in our heads,
The muscles in his face relaxed.
Not one more word was said.
His presence stands over me like an angry sun.

Burnt and shriveled.
I shall return home.

Let me slam this into the badly written times tables that multiplied off the amount of sorrys we shared on a late night in July. Bash it up against the ocean front with just enough fabric to soak in the soft moments when your eyes rested in mine.  

Cave mouths flooded with fluoride, always leaving a bitter moment of regret. We said we were free spirits. Spirits weighed down by laundry bags full of bad regrets from divided moments we used the wrong side of our brains.

Your hand, it rested on my leg like a bible that has seen too many promises and not enough follow through. While the world sputtered in the wrong, our hearts moved in the right.

Loneliness is a leaf

leaving a tree

never to return again

Yet,

Freedom is a leaf

leaving a tree

never to return again

The horse ran for days. Without a moments delay it arrived to the infamous nowhere it set off to. Tracing tracks off of uncomfortable moments taken by men in black coats. That horse of his ran. Finding nowhere to run but away. Anywhere but here he told me. Here is not a place he could see his stampede of a heart settling. The stampede moved on. On and over. Over any and everything. Stepping on stools that looked like broken backs and flattened hearts. That cowboy kept running. He never stopped to recognize brilliance. The brilliance between his ears or the one between his skeletal cage of insides. The dust gathered on the platform he knew as home. People stopped by to visit once in a while. To find a flown coupe and no sign of coming back.

Nowhere. The place he eventually stumbled upon. Full of everything he has been running from. Trampling his neurotic brain waves with memories tucked in and put to bed. Cowboy couldn't make sense of the insanity. Of a pursuit of everything left behind would catch him before he arrived. The longing took over as judge. Leveling any possibility of freedom in conscious captivity. Haunting every step the man took away from every issue dropped in garbage cans. Cowboy stool up, chest out his quills drawn. Ready, steady, and ready to attack everything. When this man turned around. He found himself. Alone. Not a single heart around to listen. He did it. Ran away from everything. Including himself. Dirt and dust coving his mouth, the man stood in amazement. Astonished he had found everything he never wanted.

Lets name her Lynn for short.

A girl with gorgeous hair. A place for wind to look beautiful. Without this girl wind is something invisible. She gives form to the breeze. The same breeze that carries her voice. One voice told so many I love yous and a few secrets I can’t speak of.

She had a heart of a locomotive. Traveling the world infectiously spreading joy into the ears open enough to hear her step upon the doorstep. Steaming up and spreading precious moments spoken from non other than the movement of her frame. A train off track and causing chaotic freedom to something that can’t be held down.

This girl I am speaking of has eyes of the future. When used they can’t tell you of the broken glass of the past but of the future possibilities she will be giving to you. The moments of forever, happiness, and pure elation. Those same eyes are the ones with a history. I want to be her historian. I want to study every date of her life to know every moment of triumph and every fall. I want to study her bones to see the indents made from the people who have experienced her grace. I will tell you everything about her. Writing a book about the times she stole my words. There will be books of blank pages if that were true.

Lynn has a way to put a definition to personal warming. Warming hearts and melting pasts. Giving light to those who are lost. Bring in the cold, lost, and fragile to place them somewhere of meaning. A way of true refinement. I can now see from the times were once dark. This girl has an infinity for endlessness. I have never seen something so completely, infinite.

Everyday I live with this girl in my chest. She has built a home there. One of structure. Fortified and permanent. And each day this heart grows with the constant fulfillment it finds from its new owner. A new forever has been written on my spine. This forever will be one spent with you through each and every moment found in my brain. A moment of now and forever more. The last moment before you fall asleep. That moment when you have your best thought of the day but your body is too tired to write it down. I want to live in your thoughts. Because from here you are living in my heart.

The first time I realized how to love you,

was the second I surrendered.

When I finally gave up.

And let go of loving myself.

I have constructed more reasons to hold on than I have equipment for.

So letting go will be the first thing I do.

Next,

Well I have not planned that far.

I know if I love with all of my existence, I can’t fail.

I try to change my socks everyday.

Otherwise i get all tripped up on my past.

Sometimes my life feels like lint between toes.

Rubbed off raw material from a malfunctioned owner.

Getting washed down a drain at the end of the day.

Taken away from a broken home.

Drowning without a chance to breathe anyway.

There is a small village, tucked under the arctic circle, in this village I met lonely. He was a stand up guy.

His shoulders,broad and spread apart. Ready to lift broken spirits and alcohol bottles. This man gave my heart a chance to truly palpitate. To rhythmically shock my ribs with a frequency unheard by the human ear.

This mans eyes, were deep. Swirling ideas of not coming back and don't pick up the phone. A land far way laid behind that iris. One where family was unknown and friends were ever changing.

His smile, crooked. Bent between the weight of the sky. Melted from the suns happiness.


We talked, for a while. He convinced me I was better than that. He told me that I didn't need anything more than my heart and mind to discover freedom.

From that moment, I could breathe. And when I started breathing, I started living. From this point on will be history.

As the school day ended and my students disappeared through the door,

I sat and took my first breathe,

And thought

Somedays I make a change in the world, other days the world makes a change in me.

Today I don't think either of those things happened.

Hidden away in cabins far away.

Secrets never known by that day.

Desperately discovering passageways.

Dusty paths full of haze.

Ever filled veins of constant liquids.

Fill me up. Behind the curtains.

Ship me to a new destination.

A place of wonderment.

Pulverize my intentions into thin air.

Let me purify this heart of mine.

Cleaning up all the dusty particles I left.

I will become new.

A full and complete set of working parts.

Using these to experience this moment I keep passing.

Ripping the curtains of veiled ignorance.

Open enough for my heart to see.  

Operating on redefined schedules under new management.

The oil patch slips I nailed down were quickly navigated.

My heart let it sink in.

The possibility of a home that would never change.

Head first dive bomb.
Absent lights.
I see your tread away from here.
Footsteps full of water.
Evaporate your insecurities.
Exit through the windchill in your spine.
You will find fingerprints.
Laid upon the insides of your eye lids.
Left there to remind us that we are real.
That those fingers have imprinted hearts.
Dusted mine off already.
Please don't give in to what society told you.
You're more than that.
Drift into excellence.
It's where you belong.
Full of extraordinary and singing.
Your voice.
It tickles my mind.
The way I hear you sooth the broken in me.
To think you were broken.
You have mended the most jagged.
So straighten up.
Belt out your heart.
You already awoke mine.

When I left I lost letters. I felt like a broken type writer attempting to speak our past in tongues removed.

Fumbling frequencies across a country too nice. Wondering about a miracle  I could never speak. Throwing tantrums with broken teeth from Everytime I've beat myself for speaking out of turn.

Write me again. A new book pressed into the ridges of your open heart. I want to be written in hieroglyphics. Take a moment and decipher the importance of things we have not spoke. Bleeding hearts dripping ink of memories we made in bedrooms.

The bed looked like octopus ink. Dark and shadowy full of the waste of our day. Making me feel alive again in the moment our eyes collided.

I dremt her to be perfect

A person filled with every expectation I want her to fit.

She did. I kept dreaming.

Because perfect doesn't live here.

We live in broken.

It is welcome and praised around these parts.

We are real. We are complete. We are together.

There was a locksmith in her finger tips. Every one of them showing a different ridge. A ridge of perpetual movement to find the right home. A slipped out the back door without saying goodbye. Ridges lining moments shadows like to hide from. When I hold her hand I don't ask questions. Embracing warmth between summer and the next breathe exiting her chest.

She was made beautiful. Crafted gorgeous. And stood untouchable.

I needed a locksmith. A savior with enough courage to talk back. Someone to open stubborn. She broke me human that night. Cracking my safe full of bad habits and leave out of this.

The lock fell off without a struggle. I was left, naked and afraid. Open and vulnerable.

I will read you like i read a dictionary

I promise I wont abuse you,

because I grasp the knowledge you possess

I promise to use every page

because every page of you is important

I promise to keep you around forever

because you are timeless

I promise to never be selfish with you

because everyone should see your beauty

you girl,

you are an un paralleled dictionary

in a library full of books

Where I stand will never be good enough

Where I go can never seem like home

When I go there i'll miss being home

Why can't I be satisfied?

I have always wanted to let you go

Like a sloth when he grabs his own arm,

only to find out it is not a branch.

I want to fall away from you.

A free fall of every emotion I can't justify.

Love is not something we possess.

I hate myself for not loving you.

The heart will follow

As I am swallowed

Into a new culture

Of alone

A place of far away

Unsure if I can stay

Confort my inners

with something more

Than surgical knives

And let me impact lives

Teach me to teach

I want to hand out and reach

For my dream of

Being more than myself

It reminded me of the way you talk

Repetitive.

A perfection of revolutions.

Telling me of things already known.

I tasted the ignorance on your lips.

Fill me up with your everything.

Your breath. The wind.

Stale air.

I don’t feel cool.

You’re pushing air in circles.

Chopping up all the times I asked for forgiveness.

Forgive me.

Until this moment.

Please give me a breeze of all the moments you have watched me act ungodly.