I see my timeline on this site:

2014
From my older brother's diagnosis
to the death of my grandmother

2015
Falling in love with you
My brother disappearing

2017
To the breaking of trust in exchange of fluids
Never receiving what the law calls justice

2018
Realizing you were never my first love
Merely my first attachment

But I never wrote about finding my brother
dead
in the woods near the main road
white bones in a tent
not knowing who it was
only realizing after the police left my mother crying
for him
dying there alone in the woods so close to home

I cry for him
dying there alone.
Hidden by the wilderness
rotting away inside the plastic tarp.

I cried for him
and wrote for you.
This timeline is my reminder
holding my guilty conscience accountable.

I can't stand being alone.
So, to cope, I remind myself
That sometimes,
there are some things you have to do alone.

I have never been loved
Or maybe i have, i just need to be reminded
Maybe the bad overpowered the good and now my heart has been numbed.
Leaving love to be something i once upon a time desired.

One could argue that as you get older, you become a better stoic. Masking your whims, desires and pleasures with logic, reason and meaning. Taking the less scenic route, becoming more utilitarian and the stick that’s up your **** plunges a little further..

And What about the artist that emotionally abuses the kid within and constantly exploits its innocence. Strumming the strings of vulnerability for relatability. Lusting over Monet clouds as painted tears conjure real ones..

Apologies for the preachy undertone, I too buried my cornea in the conneries without a veil, with chin to palm Coveting a utopia. However The dance around the bugbear has since become medieval. I gave it a good hug, tears of tranquility as we initiate the coagulation..

But I need a good light, one that outdoes a good filter. Sending shadows to the creases of the crater. The eclipsed sun carves the frame for a Godlike aesthetic and then I forget to write. Sometimes I forget I’m alive.

Take her to LA
Take her to our favorite places
Tell me do the city lights look different
Now that they’re up against her silhouette

Stopping under red lights
Tell me do you still take the time
To lean over and kiss her like you used to
Or does it just remind you of me and you

the present world
can pull you back in time -
sometimes a gentle pull,
sometimes a hard yank
to remind you of the past.

you take a trip
to meet your past self.
you watch her love,
grow, make mistakes -
she and you are one.

then you take a deep breath,
whispering a farewell
to your past self.
you walk through time,
returning to the present.