Jan 2018
Maybe, maybe, maybe, if you say sorry enough they’ll believe it, know you mean it.
I think your heart could use that kind of break.
right now it’s breaking.
For some small comfort there’s the night, the silky smooth night, the moon and stars.
For the hopeless romantic and pragmatist- for we’re but a second in eternity, a speck in infinity
But what a privilege it is to be so.
And what a burden it is to be so.
To be so….what?
Because here, for the first time in a long time it’s not my poison.
It’s his and hers and theirs.
Regardless, I’ll drink to my place in forever and infinity, and in regards to how my throat burns holes in my heart as it goes down, I’ll make do as I’ve done before.
Down is where it mixes with the roots,
With the ashes from which this sort of deep pain burns in the embers of my own broken glass
That’s right, I’m filled to the brim with bottles of what used to be stale beer, scorched purple in the sun of some far off desert.
They’ve been lathered in hope, rinsed with cynicism, dried with the same snot ridden shirt sleeve that dried my tears.
From them, I’ll drink poison until their pain is gone and my wish washy smile resurfaces, blood in my teeth from a war not mine.
When the straight laced meets the twisted, who bends and which way?
For better or worse, or shall I stay here in the numb, sweet and cool embrace of neutrality?
No, because I seek warmth.
It gets more than warm, hot enough to bend steely figures into what seems human.
Don’t touch. Too hot.
Proximity is a dangerous game here, where you risk skin and bone bubbling, dripping into the fire.
Burns leave scars, did you know that?
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Contradicting, questioning, quizzically,
I’m making my way through this like a blind man through a labyrinth of the social species.
Say maybe, so you don’t land in concrete, before you freeze from waist down and can’t breathe.
Say maybe, so time moves quickly; or stay here and bear their moment, heart and soul rough and bare.
Say maybe, so you don’t have to be sure you’re forgiven.
Say maybe, keep on holding their sins so the weight can pull you away from your own.
I think your heart could use that kind of break.
right now it’s breaking.
For some small comfort there’s the night, the silky smooth night, the moon and stars.
For the hopeless romantic and pragmatist- for we’re but a second in eternity, a speck in infinity
But what a privilege it is to be so.
And what a burden it is to be so.
To be so….what?
Because here, for the first time in a long time it’s not my poison.
It’s his and hers and theirs.
Regardless, I’ll drink to my place in forever and infinity, and in regards to how my throat burns holes in my heart as it goes down, I’ll make do as I’ve done before.
Down is where it mixes with the roots,
With the ashes from which this sort of deep pain burns in the embers of my own broken glass
That’s right, I’m filled to the brim with bottles of what used to be stale beer, scorched purple in the sun of some far off desert.
They’ve been lathered in hope, rinsed with cynicism, dried with the same snot ridden shirt sleeve that dried my tears.
From them, I’ll drink poison until their pain is gone and my wish washy smile resurfaces, blood in my teeth from a war not mine.
When the straight laced meets the twisted, who bends and which way?
For better or worse, or shall I stay here in the numb, sweet and cool embrace of neutrality?
No, because I seek warmth.
It gets more than warm, hot enough to bend steely figures into what seems human.
Don’t touch. Too hot.
Proximity is a dangerous game here, where you risk skin and bone bubbling, dripping into the fire.
Burns leave scars, did you know that?
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Contradicting, questioning, quizzically,
I’m making my way through this like a blind man through a labyrinth of the social species.
Say maybe, so you don’t land in concrete, before you freeze from waist down and can’t breathe.
Say maybe, so time moves quickly; or stay here and bear their moment, heart and soul rough and bare.
Say maybe, so you don’t have to be sure you’re forgiven.
Say maybe, keep on holding their sins so the weight can pull you away from your own.
Thanks for reading! This is my first of hopefully many posts and I greatly appreciate feedback!
