We stand at the edge of the parking lot
my child like hands wrapped tightly around your first ******* with your thumb resting on my hand
Like a promise that couldn't ever be broken
A promise that you would always wear a cape
So you could rescue me from all of my demons
But step by step
Your cape became tattered
your grip began to loosen
I keep trying to hold on tighter reaching for your other *******
that have never seemed so far away
until now
The promises you once held in the palm of you hands
freely  handing them out as if they were breathe mints
begin to lose power
The mint begins to fade just like the gum from a quarter machine looses its flavor just moments after touching your tongue
but I try to hold on to each one
hoping that someday the flavor will comeback
hoping that the thread in your cape will be sewn back together with miracles from angels above
I hang on tighter
Calling each night
just to remind you of how much I adore you
using all of the chewed up gum ***** to hold on to your fingers together
Repeating all of the promises in my mind
Screaming "Some day"
But your hair has begun to turn grey
and wrinkles have begun to crawl across your face
your hands begin to become fragile
but I refuse to let go
Empty promises stack on the shelf
like ***** dishes in the sink
as if reminders of what it used be like at the edge of the parking lot
When I held your first *******
your thumb resting on my hand
and you wore a cape

"...There are miracles in the way their eyes linger, wishes in hands that are kept folded to still the trembling.

There is wonder in knowing that, someday, they will never have to let go, ever again.

This is what I fight for, this is what I've waited for, this is what gives me hope for the future.

This is what's meant to be.


...But late at night, when the bed that waits for me is empty, I fold wishes in my hands, and shed tears for what cannot be."

In the silence now is where
I must struggle to remember again.
The galaxies on my arms
and your tiger stripes will
exist as testaments to the
strength we almost learned to
lose (close your eyes and
hold my hand again).

You laugh has slipped into
every cup of coffee I make and
the slivers of my eyes;
I am stuck now, again, wanting

My words are stale from
overuse, but how else could I
convince you that you are
jewels to me? Stale, again,
again, and soft, and here
again I am left risking
everything for the safe delivery
of one more miracle

We create our own worlds
To try and escape the harsh one awaiting us outside our doors.

But don't you realize?
Your existence is a miracle.
Every thought, feeling, and emotion
statistically impossible
but somehow you're here.

Why deny the world access to your miracle?
God knows, we need one.

A hole in the wall can be made
just by walking-through the wall.*

*To break the sound wall margine can be done
just by sitting in a high-speed winged machine.