When all the lights fly out
From the insects we use to collect,
Staying up under a tree with an old wooden swing
Pushing higher to see if you could project
Yourself over the branches above.
Telling me someday you'd escape
As you pulled the lid away
Watching those neon colors go up.

In the blink of an eye,
We became the adults we tried
So hard not to become.
Pretending as children we knew our futures,
Fabricating ideas, really we had none.

As we got older and distant,
I sit under this tree and miss
The person who sat next to me.
As the wind blows cold air,
A rickety swing moves slow
Almost knowing I wish you were here.

The more stable your mind is,
The solider your bones pull through the forward

It's icy cold
Out here in the snow
But I don't mind
I'll bury myself
Before I go back to you

It's not that I don't want to
I do
I want to smother myself
In the warmth of this idea
That I carefully made
And assigned to your face
But I won't

Maybe I'm derelict
And you're lost too
But I don't want you
I know my edging
Is pretty
And the frosted glass
Glimmers when it's dark
But I'm empty
You won't find anything in here
Nothing for you
At least