I was the sky, You were the land, and She was the sea.

You were the land sat alongside the water

And I, an intangible sky;

Though for you, I did try.

 

Air gives words the power to caress or to scold,

But what good is a voice with no hands to hold?

 

And I never looked down at you, darling.

I was only trying to find

The things that you kept hidden,

Things I could not keep inside.

 

You said there are two types of cold –

The cold of distance, and the cold of force.

In the end, I guess it was action that you were looking for.

 

And she was forever beating down your door,

Hard to ignore

The weight of a body thrown against yours.

 

Know that I could have loved you from a distance.

That would have been enough for me.

 

But she danced around your edges; she could touch you where I could not reach.

And you pushed and you pulled at each other

Like the waves crashing over the beach.

 

I watched you dissolve into her arms

As she kissed the pebbles at your feet – skin speckled like glitter and dust,

And I knew that could never be us.

 

But love has always held my eyes open,

Could not turn me from what I can see.

And just often enough for it to matter

You still turn your face up to me.

 

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Onism

Do not grow up

Grow in                  and out                                  and all around.

Try every route until your skin bursts with lives

A mosaic of all your existences.

 

Remember when we were children,

The ceiling lived so far away

Hiding all of the things our spirits could not wait to taste.

 

Do not be afraid

To pour your body in as many directions as there are perspectives;

Leave a fingerprint              on every surface,

                                              a memory in every mind.

 

There is a world inside of you

With a view from every angle,

Adventure behind every blink.

 

Do not give up

The only way to know which place is yours,

Is to have dipped a toe

Into each               and every                              one.

 

 

Residue

Hounds chase me down, whispering remember when’s.

Guilt runs a finger up my spine and I shape the memory of those words –

Words which stick and will not be forced into the open,

But my land still betrays the secret.

 

There is always half the battle left

‘Cause you’ve got a mind that could swallow up the sun.

When I was as lonely and as cold as the moon

You could always take me down.

 

Remember how I would crack my bones to accommodate you;

Let you sit within my ribcage for days.

Remember when I built you a shelter from my skin,

Remember how quickly I let you in.

 

Mountains sparkling with snow are so unforgiving up close

And all of our words are spoken. No matter how far I go

 

Shrapnel of you still resides in these wounds,

And we are just residue.

The Littlest Things

That pile of dirty clothes on the floor

You never bothered to move,

 

Getting home with a story to tell

But no one to tell it to,

 

Cooking a meal for one,

And still leaving half – for who?

 

Remembering to lock the door before bed,

Because now I’m the last to walk through.

 

Always, it’s the littlest things

Reminding me to miss you.

Molecules

They say

That couples who live together

For a while

 

Start to share a microbiome,

That so many of the little pieces

Can be matched up.

 

Well we’ve been living in and out

Of each other’s pockets

For a while.

 

The flowers in my mind

Have all grown in your direction,

 

They cannot be swayed by bad weather,

They reach for you when I wake.

 

And here is where you will find me –

A cluster of all the little pieces

Threaded through your being,

 

Our molecules interlocking tighter than our fingers do

Every time we have to say goodnight.

Growing Up On Life Support

I was raised on life support.

I was taught

To paint silence onto my lips

And close my eyes to find a place unseen,

 

Not living

Never held up

Restrained on the edge of never-knowing.

 

Growing up on life support

You were always above, counting time

Sliding the planets on a string.

 

Even on slow burn, excess is poison.

Something lies beneath the skin of the mirror –

A promise that I will trip over all these tracks that you lay down,

Where punitive light leaves the bone exposed.

 

Time to breathe

Without you blowing air into my mouth,

Time to speak

Without your words falling out,

 

Time to find my feet

And learn to fall.

It is the good in you that hurts

We were only echoes

In the dark,

 

But my mind has wrapped itself so many times

Around thoughts of you

That they have all turned to pearls.

 

You were throwaway words

In a getaway car,

 

But my heart has woven itself

Into a cage for your thoughts

And without them to fill it, I’m falling apart.