some days i feel that
despite the weight of legends
that behold our names
in the light of golden inkwells
and the pull of the tide
that had ****** us together
with the inevitability of a crashing wave
that we are not so much like
the sun and the moon
for the eclipse is a collision of epic proportions
for the eclipse is a parting of a thousand red seas
the eclipse, explosively desperate, and as rare as can be

no, i find myself
something much closer to earth
deep in the ground and deep in the dirt
for you meet me like a blue sky
meets the planet below
and you kiss me at the horizon line
all-enveloping, steady, constant, sweet
sometimes in the dancing hues
of some celestial body

but most days,
yes, most days
you are the photo in the locket
that my soul has always carried
and you are the peace
in always arriving home

though you may follow me to the ocean
and its raging waters,
to be held by you
is to be held by the shore

do you remember when i was made of gold? these days i much more resemble tarnished silver, buried bronze...
i dont fill these shoes anymore, i barely remember how they felt to walk in
these old words dont stick to me anymore
praise lives in the past, and i wonder
what am i worth now?

what does a prodigy become when the golden glow dims?
what does a prodigy become when the sun goes out?
where do you turn when the bush stops burning?
an unstoppable force becomes an immovable object

why do anything if it will fall short of perfection?
i have a reputation, after all
and ive been dragging its corpse with me
for a long long time
the weary old corpse of when the sun still shined
and i had dared to be brighter

the medals on my chest weigh heavy
they drag me down
gold is hard to carry
when the glimmer gets old