Beautiful sea breeze
How quickly you become a storm
You’re built of resilience
You bring with you an entourage
Of silver lining and moon tides
Sailor’s boats and lighthouse guides

Yet you still shy away from burning bridges
That monsters love to cross

A belief is a sweet dream.
An unconscious stream.  

It tucks the corners of your bed.
A place to put all your dread.

Covers you in white linen.
Keeps your naiveness winnen.

Casts you away into a sleepful estate.
No longer shall you await.

A sweet escape from the truth.
A kiss of ignorance coming through.

Gives you faith in something.
Even if it’s a hopeful nothing.

So when you told me you loved me
It was a lie
Then you told me you hate me
It was a lie
You told me you lied

So was that a lie too?

I sit beside you,
two sets of eyes glued to a splotched canvas before us.
I in the driver’s seat,
you in your captain’s chair.
I’m asking all these questions, but,
are you really there? I worry
when I look at you, and the
shock is painted on my face.
Others pass me under the moonlight and
tell me to leave this place.
They say, “you better get outta here, and get
while the getting is good.
This job will turn you inside out
and make you misunderstood.”

I sit beside you,
two sets of eyes glued to the canvas, as if it will restore us.
A cassette tape is forced through my brain,
the night’s events replayed.
My finger tap upon the glass,
and your hair is frayed.
Your figure in the captain’s chair,
with skin as cold as tin.
Which one of these got to your bones,
which one did you in?
Do you remember sights and sounds,
you wish you could forget?
Is that look upon your eye,
one of anger or regret?
Trauma is etched into your skin
like cracks on a weary canyon rock.
I need to know how you turned to you
if only you could talk.

I sit beside you.
Our eyes are glued to the splotched canvas, that which holds nothing
for us.