Lost & Found

never forget the darkest points

they define where we go

its not just a drake lead breakdown

its not god’s plan

i remember when that was my life

pants down while we shoved energy through our blood vessels 

it wasn't a fantastic moment for anyone looking back

but if you want the thruth here it is

im sitting here in a 7am Brooklyn apartment wishing i could get a taste of the life i had with my Huang’s World team. 

life would be easier if we could break every segment up

but 

I’ve been even keeled

smooth sailing

there’s one rocky patch

a large storm raiding the serenity of my oceans

and it’s the bullshit of your choice

betrayal

fuck you

betrayal

ive been soft handed in your friendship for too long

this is how you repay my sacrifices?

Don’t say it’s because of what I did

you find no issue with my other half

it’s this side that no longer and part of your life

in a decision you made directly to hurt me. 

you’ve always judged me

in retrospect you clearly thought you were better than me

so now, in a moment of unadultered honesty let me say. 

think what you want. 

I’ve lived my life to the fullest

the highest bars of flaws define my edges

and atleast I know who the fuck I am

who are you. 

you’re a victim

always. 

never someone who takes ownership of your own actions

your own choices

someone always forced you into the choice you live in

stew in

fuck you. 

this is me ripping the patch off. 

Clearly

I’ve been itching to put words down

unsure of where to start

because where do we start when the beginning was so long ago

and yet just now

You

you have kissed me in different shells

different existences of yourself

kissing lips connected to masks of characters 

that I used to define as myself

Now

this time

you’re kissing me

and it’s like being touched be a live wire 

stripped raw

bare to every connection we make

Now where I used to see nothing but the world around me

I see the fluffy levels of the snowfall on a NYC winter afternoon

because I imagine how they might land on your shoulder

as we walk to a show, a bar 

There’s a pilot light 

flickering down underneath the broiler plate of my skull

an echo of gas starting to flow and the hallow sound of it before it becomes potent enough to engulf

my mind with fire 

See I never could play the piano

my mind just never understood it

but staring at this in front of me

I don’t know what to do with it just yet

but I entirely understand it. 

It’s hugging on a street corner letting each other know 

it’s not our fault

it’s not that broken means broken

just means that some wounds need extra large tubs to soak in. 

Can you hear it?

It’s the pilot light about to catch

the oxygen has been pulled out

I only inhale molecules of the fire this’ll become

a walking Pyre 

meant for those that indulge in original sin

it’s not so bad though

because hey

It spills off the tips of my fingers

Figures

Figures in or around

The sound of

I’m sorry

I only say I’m sorry into my mirror when the lights are off.

A tightly bound monster escaped

Its lungs expanding

Bursting

Inhaling the deadly carbon dioxide wrapped around the words you spoke to me.

Relapse

Verb

To suffer deterioration after a period of improvement

Recently I’ve been prone to writing. I should have known that to be the warning sign that my insides were being stirred by this beast I thought I had tranquilized.

I didn’t expect the creases of my fingers to whiten as held the phone - counting the seconds as your voice was transported through my headphones.

You were in LA. Of course. Because nothing with us has ever been easy or linear.

I a man who lived in LA lost you to NYC.

I a man now in NYC called you - and you were in LA.

Even when we’re living in the same city we aren’t ever around each other. And all of this should keep my mindset as it was.

Not attempting to rebuild myself from what I was but building something entirely different - new.

Improvement over the past month has been small but noticeable. I was stable. I created a routine and didn’t feel like I was on the edge about to fall off.

Everyone always says that when two people start doing something wrong it’ll always eventually come out and the bills will come due. 

The fact is time and time again

people spend hours

days

in the intimate embrace of someone that isn’t the face you see on their #mcm or #wcw Instagram profiles. 

Why? 

Because even in the age of constant connection

there’s always a secret corner

an alley with a blind turn

where you can’t see someone when they run into it

To the man, men or hypothetical entity that doesn’t actually exist

I hope that you cared of her while you had it

embraced the spaces between the sounds of the minute hands as they clicked

felt your heart stop the moment before you kissed her the first time

felt it one more time the second you realized you kissed her for the last time

To the men who never knew that I existed

I left something for you that wasn’t there when I met them

Jalan Jalan was right

The only way to talk about someone that’s left

Is to pretend like they’re just gone

Or else it’s impossible to leave them.

You’re gone away. I’ll meet you again one day. A different version that I don’t imagine with arms crossed on Sunday morning bedsheets.

This version I’ll think is fun and good to call for a friends outing. This version I’ll send happy birthday texts to and see randomly, saying we should get drinks. Catch up.

Maybe we will.

But we’ll never catch up to the ghost versions of us.

Nothing throws you off kilter like going home

Being somewhere that the walls aren’t needed

Where they drop without asking and you just feel

Happiness.

Love.

Anger.

Sadness.

Betrayal.

Everything you’ve thought you were feeling suddenly rushes in without protection or filter. That’s how you do from singing and hugging at the Hibs to crumpling on the ground and sobbing with your best friend to laying on a snow covered ground staring up at a water tower laughing at 4am.

There’s a version of you that would love this version of me.

The version before we started fighting. Before I disappeared. Before we started laying walls next to our bed.

I’m sitting here in a living room that isn’t mine

It’s a coffin

It’s the place that I realized

This is all over

And I’m the one that put us here. At some point the parts of you I hurt just never came back. At some points I was to focus on my own hurt to see that your parts were too small to put back together.

At some point I stopped existing to you as a person

And only existed as the dueling ghosts of our memories

I’m crying in a god damn living room and your in the next room and I can’t come to you for comfort because, why do I deserve it.

 in Darkness

reaching unapologetically 

grasping for you

but your hands feel like air