waxy

Early for his early job and

He’s a big boy whose life is

put together and fixed.

I am not steady.

At times I struggle with this,

he leaves me in his bed and expects me to

rest for another few hours and I can’t

Help but think that he must resent

Me. Even a little,

don’t you want to sleep too?

I don’t bother trying to fall asleep when he does

and he pays for all my food

I lay next to him while he rests and

make sure he’s still breathing

Sometimes it makes me cry

(not with bruises, never with bruises)

and my jaw clicks when I open it.

i paint my lips with something smooth,

butter and mango

and coat my stomach with rice

the hues of the world around me never fade

nor does my jewelry ever come off

and I watch you

grow

with a reverence

and the coffee shop by my high school

reverie

opens its doors to anyone who cares

and the way you carry yourself

me

unleashes something within my soul

and the sole mistake you made

me

songs of prairies roamed

in the stuttering sun i see

flowers bloom to face you

in wretched wind i feel

my hair hit my face,

and suddenly i am home,

and suddenly the storm ceases

and suddenly i am whole

and when you hear my grating voice in the night

(or maybe just the sound of your phone ringing)

reflect on those lyrics.

hear what they really have to say,

why and how they say it.

who opens these doors? who shuts them?

you remember now that i

was always the person to put a song on in the car

and somehow you always sung along.

that sweet sound always felt new to me

and i am not sure you were too familiar either.

I’d do anything, the time will pass anyways

As we watch this early dawn

Will it always feel this wrong?

Growing up and growing old

I’ll watch the sun with you

History repeats itself

Put you up on a shelf

Out of reach

Say you’ll never know me

Say you’ll never leave

We both know that you’re out there

a gentle red lines these thoughts of mine.

maybe I will never escape it,

and maybe the pain was meant to linger.

it always tasted so sweet when you made it

the rim of your cup lined with

uncharred leaves,

beans not so finely ground

i believe that your hands are only the swiftest

calmest and roughest

and that anything you tamp