Mar 2015
There are parts of this that terrify me
I avoid questions like a mom avoids the room of a
Sleeping child
For fear of waking parts of me that existed once.
I don’t want to mess this up
By continuing to move at the speed of a freight train,
But we don’t have much time and it seems
That that’s the only choice we have.
It’s not the only choice we have
It’s the choice my body wants me to make
Because it’s been drawn to you in the way that a
Bee is drawn to a flower full of nectar
For quite some time now
And it’s hard to deny the powdery pollen that coated me as soon as I jumped in.
I don’t know how we got to this point
But I thank my lucky ancestry every day
That I get to fall asleep to the lilting tilt of your voice,
Botched as it sometimes is by the 976 seeming light-years between us.
You are fire.
Everything about you breathes passion
You are a fire and I am the earth underneath you
You let me see what you are made of.
You let me cradle you as you flare up and as you simmer down to embers
The earth is never afraid of getting burned.
But sometimes I am.
Your eyes smolder with a love that could melt boulders
And sometimes trust is hard for me.
I know that’s hypocritical but you’ll have to forgive me
Even the earth has many faces.
Mountains grow tall and intimidating
Creating walls that people make games of climbing
The mountains letting them think they won,
Even some of the hardest house a molten core.
Plains keep the earth close
Dirt suddenly under your fingernails and staining your clothes
Seemingly from nowhere
You aren’t sure how you let it get there.
With sand you can make the most impressive of castles
That will fall away as soon as a wave removes its foundation.
Sand has trust issues.
As soon as she feels your fingers falter
She’ll start to slip through the cracks
But at the same time she clings to you from another angle.
Following you home and turning your carpets to sandpaper,
Your floors into gross renditions of the shoreline.
Sand will make sure you can’t forget her.
And she’s patient.
Even as the ocean,
Turned red from the effort of reflecting the beauty of the sun,
Ebbs farther and farther away,
To homes on other shores,
She waits.
She knows that though she’s been left before, this time it’s different.
The warmth of the sun still radiates within her
Reminding her of that.
Telling her that maybe
Her fear isn’t so rational after all.
I avoid questions like a mom avoids the room of a
Sleeping child
For fear of waking parts of me that existed once.
I don’t want to mess this up
By continuing to move at the speed of a freight train,
But we don’t have much time and it seems
That that’s the only choice we have.
It’s not the only choice we have
It’s the choice my body wants me to make
Because it’s been drawn to you in the way that a
Bee is drawn to a flower full of nectar
For quite some time now
And it’s hard to deny the powdery pollen that coated me as soon as I jumped in.
I don’t know how we got to this point
But I thank my lucky ancestry every day
That I get to fall asleep to the lilting tilt of your voice,
Botched as it sometimes is by the 976 seeming light-years between us.
You are fire.
Everything about you breathes passion
You are a fire and I am the earth underneath you
You let me see what you are made of.
You let me cradle you as you flare up and as you simmer down to embers
The earth is never afraid of getting burned.
But sometimes I am.
Your eyes smolder with a love that could melt boulders
And sometimes trust is hard for me.
I know that’s hypocritical but you’ll have to forgive me
Even the earth has many faces.
Mountains grow tall and intimidating
Creating walls that people make games of climbing
The mountains letting them think they won,
Even some of the hardest house a molten core.
Plains keep the earth close
Dirt suddenly under your fingernails and staining your clothes
Seemingly from nowhere
You aren’t sure how you let it get there.
With sand you can make the most impressive of castles
That will fall away as soon as a wave removes its foundation.
Sand has trust issues.
As soon as she feels your fingers falter
She’ll start to slip through the cracks
But at the same time she clings to you from another angle.
Following you home and turning your carpets to sandpaper,
Your floors into gross renditions of the shoreline.
Sand will make sure you can’t forget her.
And she’s patient.
Even as the ocean,
Turned red from the effort of reflecting the beauty of the sun,
Ebbs farther and farther away,
To homes on other shores,
She waits.
She knows that though she’s been left before, this time it’s different.
The warmth of the sun still radiates within her
Reminding her of that.
Telling her that maybe
Her fear isn’t so rational after all.
