Close you weary eyes to look at me
Tell me my love, whatever do you see?
The sun shines slowly on our love
life, flying like a lonely dove

and you, you still look at me
and you, you are all I see
and the sun, burns your lovely wings
and its just as the bluebird sings.

Enthralled by the lunar glow’s allure
Blindly treading the path I would endure
Stubbornly pressed on, heedless of the toll
Ignoring the cracks within my weary soul

As I draw closer, happiness and solace unfurl
Yet my touch, ignites the flames that wildly swirl
Burning yet I cling, despite the searing pain
I stand my ground holding you in my embrace

To my surprise, you pushed me away,
Leaving me adrift, lost in disarray.
Unaware, I’m falling into the void
Desperately clinging to the shadows

Was I naive, to have pushed so far?
Do I regret the burns and the scars?
With tears and a smile, I raise my fist,
"I would do it for you” as I fall in to the abyss

Maybe I give myself too much credit: that I am good, I am doing better, I am great at my craft, that I have something to show everyone when in reality I am just average at best. What else do I show of myself that is worth a praise more than just “you did your best”? How bare do I have to be for people to pay attention to me? Maybe I am just having a bad day that has been going on for 182 days. But at the end of it all, I am just a mere performance worth 59% rotten tomatoes, it’s more than half, but barely fresh. At least I did my best? What other ******* do I have to say to myself so I don’t end up crying with a blade in my hand? It seems that trying is just never going to get me far, and the best I can give everyone is this: the mediocre poet who dreamed too high and fell so deep she died on sea. She had wings too weak and dreams too heavy that the only place she could reach was the clouds of 9, where she could only see from a few feet afar before she landed and died. That is the only thing I can offer.

each kiss had me soaring higher
blinded by the sweetness of the sun
my name on your lips
just as holy as any sermon
they say falling feels alot like flying
until you hit the ground
but as the wax from my wings melted
sticky and red
i decided it was worth it
to be close to you
c l o s e s t  to you
for even a moment.

It would be when the air would feel like silk or like the hues were almost brighter.
It was when the hills felt lower and the low felt lighter.
In the speckles of day when I would sing to the tune of another’s brass,
Somehow my daydreams would still hold a conversation with you.
You’d saunter in with kindness and class;
The kind of attitude that sometimes I wish I had.
Your tone and diction were hard to imagine,
They lacked the luster and the passion.
They were all the corridors to every phrase.
They were all the oddities I wanted to praise.
I can feel the wax melt from my wings with just the thought of knowing you in abundance.
You are a Sun to my sand with a depth I should never learn.
You’re a distance that feels relaxed and at a level I could never convince.
At your hand would I bloom into my hyacinth petals or would my roots begin to rot?
Would I compliment your warmth by offering a place to rest or would my minerals begin to harden into a glass for my next cathedral?
It’s necessity the keeps the unknown locked in a mental maze that which I have mending to wrought.
Still, my stargazing will end when I fall.
Those feathers left to remind me of how little about you I’ve ever actually known;
And yet how bittersweet to imagine having ever flown.