it's raining again. It's been raining a lot lately. I rush outside with jars usually, tonight I sit under and I fill myself up. my hair clings to my neck my face my soul. I close my eyes, dipping myself in and out of the sky's tears in hopes that she'll never recognize the difference if I were to be extracting tears of my own. There will soon be no distinction between me and the wet. catching a breath, I peer up I blink so much I'm surprised I can find the clouds They shield Gaia from the cold I count the stars, though I mistake the majority of raindrops for the plasma. So I tilt down, face to Hell my hair curtains around me as if a cat had torn them into nothing but clumpy pieces of string, and recognize the puddle of a person, through blurry sockets, that I can no longer hide from.
I'm in a weird writing mood. I don't write many long things anymore, though, as we see
It was the flash of colors, Your eyes covered in the hair you hated so much. Reds, Blues, Oranges, Pinks. Colors mushed together to find what made your heart beat out of your chest. Blurry, Blurry pictures of you. Like you were always out of reach to me.
My, My soul echoes your rhythm My arms sway to your tune My body moves to your music But why do they watch for long Like they hear something so violent Why do they stare at your sound Why has your sound become silent Why am I still stuck in the motion Why?
I can't tell if the stinging in my eyes Is from my tears Or from keeping my eyes Open in the rain Too long. Both end up blurring my vision anyway. I don't mind though. Because if there is a God, And he's up there, Then at least I know He's as frustrated as I am. And he deserves to be.
I was so happy last night sitting cross legged on the skatepark ramp wrapped in the stocky darkness graffiti bouncing atop every surface
beer glasses clinking because two get me loose and the sticker art I peel off to save in my phone case Jess’s laughter and wild paces back and forth while animatedly describing everything I needed to know about the universe
and I wake the drugs long seeped out of my system but still lingering on my breath I can’t remember the astronomical lessons we shared that night but I know I felt something incredibly powerful, almost break-through like
You still bought your last girl flowers Even when it was months after He buys me flowers when he says sorry More than one bouquet on my desk sometimes While I was struggling with blurry lines They often turn blood red I find Maybe this is just growing up Maybe this is just love when you're young