forgotten poet

why is it so hard to let words slip past my lips

it’s not out of fear of hurting you

not really

selfishly, its the tragedy of lying to myself

convincing myself this is ok, I’m ok.

but I’m not. are you?

wish I could take back nights of laughter

I pleaded with the sun, praying its auburn heat would burn you to the ground.

the one she told me of how she treasured a setting sun

about how the colors dance together, pushing and pulling

battling for space in the vast sky, pleading to be seen

a fiery, violet palette demanding power balance

she huffed at me, admitting my aerial treasures

planes, I repeated.

destructive, obnoxious beasts we created

to fulfill the deep desire to travel and roam the world

how ironic it is, riding upon a beast to experience the very planet it slowly destroys

and yet, we must fasten ourselves in for the journey

for love, or duty, or grief. for longing and belonging

chasing, fleeing, freeing

that night she wore a smile only for me, with a sparkle in her eye

her pinky intertwined with mine, lying over our bed of grass

following blinking lights on the beasts soaring through pastel skies

but now my amber nights are filled with silence

getting lost in dim lit clouds, wishing for another hour of laughter

instead i watch the battle of hues fight against one another

as i too battle, myself, to anchor to roots beneath me or to board a beast in the night that’ll take me back to her.

settles behind my teeth like it’s always belonged

out of praise, and fear, and need

higher and higher

like I’ve dragged them across unforgiving coals

tapping, biting, grabbing, cracking

anything to distract them from breaking rules

anything to stop them from committing a sin we’ve washed away

it’s like a brick I can’t put down, yet one I laid

just a glimpse, a fleeting thought, then covered in mortar

until I feel the cold safety of this fortress

but I’d rather scorch my hands, than allow embers to keep popping in my chest

knocking, pleading, threatening to crash through their cage

just put it down. down down down…

all this fervor for what?

clasp your palms together, repeat this like a mantra

there is safety in quiet, you must ice your wounds

never the understood

always the fighter

never the fought for

always the problem, the theatrics

never deserving of the comfort

how big must this pile of ashes rise

now cursed with tiny thorns

once held miles of tranquil blue

riddled with winds of grey, ever damp now

what a warm light bursting past your cage of bone

shadowed by purple-blue heartbreak

nape untouched, except when kissed by the high sun

glowing orbs that stilled all hearts

cradled by stratus stretched brows

I still see them at times, staring into shattered mirrors

joined by the susurrus of tears, rolling in rapid descent

a single blink, lashes willing me back to what is true

a sacred ground, where crashing salts of water meet their beloved grain

each cherry-picked with hunger, dragged out to sea

soaked dust clouds, feverishly twirling down to the final ballroom

alas, laid in perfect symphony deep beneath the songbird’s hymn