At 6:00, I drank
to remember,
to swim in the nectar
of consequences secreted
over a lifetime.
At midnight, I drank
to forget.

—Ron Gavalik

its dark and muddy
I’ve always liked the sun
its dark and muddy
unforgiving weather
Each step however difficult is a tribute to you
you’re always in the corners of each room
not an afterthought, but often mentioned at the end
I fear the end
I envy those who take solace in echoing rooms of stained glass
I envy their lord
while I try to remember you
they try to summon strength
they succeed, I do not

one day i’ll be gone
my throat in death as hollow as my chest was in life
all thats left of me is the glaring absence of me
i am nothing if not consistent
i am nothing
except dreams of becoming something
i do not know how i will die
i do not care when i will die
i don’t want your tears
and although i fear being forgotten i don’t want to be remembered
all i ask for is forgiveness
if i have done no wrong by you
then i ask the world forgiveness
i ask human kind to find it in her heart to forgive if only out of pity
i ask myself for forgiveness
i’m sorry for opportunities missed
i’m sorry for days lost laying in bed
i’m sorry for canceling plans so often because my chest lights on fire at the idea of crowds
i’m sorry we never reached our full potential
i’m sorry for fleeting thoughts i never wrote down
i’m sorry you didnt get to change the world
then again,
how lovely it would be to be forgotten
for nothing would hurt more than being stabbed after death
when i cannot shield myself
my rotting corpse unknowing the horros the living are committing
a legacy no longer concerns me
i long to be forgotten

i thought you must have lived a thousand lives, an insatiable hunger for knowledge, and a love for the theatrical
by day, by night
i cherish the eyes you’ve gifted me
sheltered from the unforgiving sun
nothings quite like the feeling of belonging to something greater
something with roots
something with branches that seem to stretch farther than you can see, stronger than they need to be
calmly explain everything to me, answer with a smile and hold me
my father is older than time itself and wiser than god pretends to be
voice as soft as silk, arms that always accommodate me
my father lets me win at chess
I am the center of the oak tree it tells me, I am the oak trees greatest fruit
the oak tree shields me, and when I am burned it heals me
and one day abruptly, it leaves me
the leaves were falling for sometime now
heartbroken as I am I have no time for tears
mother earth, creator of my beloved oak tree
softly whispers in the wind promises of a less harsh tomorrow
the oak tree doesn’t stand where it used to anymore but I carry it with me in my heart, in the way I smile, in the way I carry myself
taking it to places its never been
and sometimes I can almost feel its leaves brushing against my face, reassuring me I’m on the path it intended for me