If you could see yourself the way I see you
For just a week,
For just a day,
For just an hour,
Or even for a fleeting glimpse in a crowd.

If you could see yourself through my eyes
Then hopefully you would see
That glow around your eyes when you smile
Especially when the smile is sincere
Even when your heart isn't in it, I see it still.

If you could see yourself through my eyes
Maybe you would hear the chimes
That accompany your voice when you laugh.
Maybe you would feel that warmth in your heart
Even when you're fake laughing at my jokes.

If you could see yourself the way I see you,
Standing ready even when you've been tested,
Holding your ground against wave after wave after wave,
Prepared to withstand your thousandth trial,
Even when you know you're on the edge of collapse.

If you could see yourself the way I see you,
You would be stunned into silence.
You would be amazed at the creature you saw.
You would let go of that last nagging thought.
You would love yourself as deeply as I love you.

I live my life in constant moments
of condensing and bursting,
of falling and rising,
of growth and decay,
          growth and decay,
               growth and decay.

Moments of joy that last
until the punctuating moment of sorrow.
Alternative swings in an unending dance
of growth and decay,
          growth and decay,
               growth and decay.

Where even the happy moments are haunted,
awaiting the eventual sudden halt
and the continuing of the perpetual cycle
of growth and decay,
          growth and decay,
               growth and decay.

Like Icarus before me, I plummet,
And crash into the broiling ocean.
But I will not drown as he.

If this is to be my Invictus, let it be so.
I will captain this broken vessel,
This raft of shattered bone and splintered soul.
Let me traverse this churning sea.
Allow me to battle, even if futility rears it's head.

Allow me to rage against the dying light,
Until not but darkness remains.
I beg you, let me claw at the walls of ailing
Until my hands are reduced to the barest of bones.

Let me struggle and thrash, even if futility rears it's head.
Let me suffer, and let me ache in my cruel fate.
But please, I beg you, let me claw.
Do not deny me my fight. You've taken enough.

You've taken enough. Let me struggle, if in vain.
I will paddle through this ocean,
On crushed limbs and torn muscle.
But please, I beg you, allow me that much.
Let me fall as if I did all I could to stop it.

The years have done little to change your features.
A spattering more lines around your hazel eyes, deftly covered.
Those eyes won’t even look at me now.
Locked to the flashing digital board as flights roll in.
You clutch the plastic handle to your pink duffel bag,
Your pale lips a grim line, your hazel eyes spiderwebbed
with bloodshot veins, surrounded by exhausted bags.
We haven’t spoken for minutes, watching the hordes of people
As they board, embark, fly away into the morning sun, hopefully to return.
It lay unspoken between us, writhing and twisting in the space.
Crawling between our hands, prying our fingers away from each other.
Black and cruel, ticking forward methodically.
How badly we both need you to stay here with me,
But dreams called you away to the Redwood coast.
The woman’s voice calls over the speakers.
Your plane has arrived. Others pause to hear, and continue walking.
I feel my stomach freeze, plummet, and watch a sob you try to hide.
We turn, smile, hug, kiss, numb. You fix your raven’s nest of a hair style.
A half ponytail, leaving most of your locks away from the hold.
It falls across your face as you pick up your duffel bag.
I watch every step of your walk,
And you never once turn around to face me.
But my gaze doesn’t leave you
Until you merge with the crowd and disappear.