I ventured forth, again into the musty canyons The dark, dank space that is My past Or more specifically Ours.
A perusal reveals: Hats in boxes, brims unmet by sun in ages Creased shirts, bands' crests emblazoned bright Clever titles scrawled in sharpie on silent CDs And everything coated with brown hair Crooked and curled as the smile That I wear presently Upon this journey
Upon further inspection: Percussive rhythms, beats tattooed Into slick skin A laughing afterthought of intimacy A private joke shared between us Among many
The messy box: Conversations held hostage by anger Fueled on one side by deceit and fury at the world While the other fights a war, at another's side: alone Confusion racking both Where once there was naught but desire To care, protect, discover, and journey Hijacked, a spoiled child upending a puzzle That his insolence will never allow him the Solace Of completing
And the box that releases a torrent of whispers upon opening: My name Hands on knees, rage relieved in an instant Your laugh At my protruding tongue, a face fraught with focus Poetry, lilted and simple About the charm in how I climb stairs
Ending with the lessons: To seek patience; with the large, and especially the small To love fully; as they say, time flies To face fear; naked honesty will conquer this To rely on; there is no shame in support To...
The grit of clenched teeth Overcome by the solace of Framed reality I descend the shaking ladder Leaving behind this echoing forrest Mist clouded with Shared impassioned melodies I have sorted and cleaned enough I will revisit from time to time
But. In practicing honesty:
I am a living memory of you
For as a sculptor Slow and methodic with the clay You have shaped and molded My very being And all can see Your impassioned mark on me A testament to kindness Tried, and true