His mother always told him to throw away broken toys
to make room for new ones
and maybe thats why they never keep me around
I've become an acrobat
balancing my self confidence on the tight rope of his words
It’s hard to walk when your legs are killing you.
My knees didn't always creek like this, I promise.
My smile didn't always come with a disclaimer

Your handshake
is about as firm as a thousand year old bridge
and thats when I realized
you were crumbling

You make me queasy
a constant sea sickness
but I'm not ill
People tend to call this "butterflies"
Im just digusted
there are insects hiding in the most secret parts of me

I want to be painted onto the canvas of your future
and carved into the floorboards of your past
my love for you is deeper than the Atlantic
and I am the tide
constantly returning to your shore line
no matter how many times I'm turned away.
I once asked my mother
what the most tragic love story was
and she said it was the story of the moon and the sun
Cursed to live apart for eternity
only meeting briefly
at dusk
but with that
comes the beauty of the sunset
and these bruises
they are proof that the color spectrum
Does not hold enough reds and blues
to paint my endless sea of love
On to the canvas of your future

“Palm trees do exist”
And like that I’m speechless
Because palm trees are the definition of serenity
And she can’t find that serendipity
because in Idaho we have pine trees
And fathers who are like attics
Attics have ladders to climb so you can reach their expectations
And sometimes his are too high
If I had an attic I would cut every rung to its ladder and build my own
Because I know where I’m going
It might not be as high as you’d like
But let me assure you I’m headed toward palm trees