He wants to be your boy
Soft and innocent
And rough, but coy
Though, he knows he'll never be intimate

You want to be a boy
A defined jaw
Ecstatic and full of joy
The most handsome boy you ever saw

I am a boy
I ruffle my hair when I talk
Standing confident in corduroy
But the definition is lost in the fog

I really don't know what to call this....
but you'd glance my way and this feeling would wash over me
like you had set a cage of butterflies free inside me
your eyes made me beyond nervous
they were so deep, intoxicating
I wanted to drown in them and run away all at the same time
this does not make sense because you are you and I am me
a boy and a dreamer
you are like the ground, steady, stable, always there
you sleep at night and work in the day.... nothing about your vision is blurry
sleep and myself are enemies, dreams consume my day and night
my heads spinning and nothing makes sense
you my love are perfect well I'm a paradox
hold me close.... for another second just incase my illusions come true....

Push and pull
that's what you always seem to do.
I pour my whole soul into you,
and you answer with echoes
faint whispers
fading before they reach me.

I stretch myself thin
just to meet you halfway.
I ask if you're okay
even when I'm not.
I hug you
like maybe it’ll fix everything.

And still
you push me away.
You pushed me away.
I should’ve seen it.
A sign,
a shift.
Maybe you started to realize.
Maybe I came on too strong.
Maybe you finally got tired
tired of me.
Maybe time caught up to the truth,
and now you see me
how everyone else does.

So I step back.
I give you space,
let silence swell between us like fog.
I become a ghost in my own care,
quiet, careful, watching from the edge.

But like a fish out of water,
your breath turns shallow
and you pull me back in.
Suddenly, you’re the one
making sure I'm okay.
You trace the shape of my boundaries,
say you’re worried,
say you’re always here.

And I wonder
which version of you is true?
The one who holds me close,
or the one who keeps letting go?

And maybe that's what we are
a tide that never decides
whether to crash or retreat.
But just like the push and pull of the ocean,
while rough, we flow in a kind of harmony.
And although my energy is starting to erode,
I stay
a shoreline, waiting,
weathered but wide open.
Because some tides never stop returning,
even when they forget why they came.

Among the crowd, busy life,
I saw a soul, hustling around.
Not like people, always rife,
A lost boy, ought to be found.

I saw you pass by,
Pass though my whole.
I wished to talk, say "Hi!"
But I only saw you, behind the pole.

I saw you, but so did you
You opened your mouth, I passed by,
Like a puzzle, you left a clue,
Walked away just after, "I!..."

What were you about to say,
This haunts me still,
Maybe you wanted to make me your bae,
Oh, I'm climbing a steep hill.

Feet firm on earth,
still chasing dreams
in a world now his own.

Sweat spills from strong pores,
forging currents of futures
he now shapes.

Tight embraces,
arms steady and sure,
a father’s pride made strong.

Wood and leather,
worked to tough threads—
faith stitched into his resolve.

Grass stains on knees,
still bending the world
to his will,
moved by purpose.

Anthems of hope
rise in his voice,
lifting his father’s soul
to love’s high planes.

The quiet secrets
of love and compassion,
once hidden by modesty,
are now lived out loud.

He follows his path
through shifting fields,
where once slick frogs slipped
through eager hands—

A world he builds,
a world he claims,
a world his father
now trusts to his hands.