#angstywincestnet

You know the way sunflower stares at the sun,

So wistful, so adoringly, like it'd give anything, everything

To be held in its gaze for just a moment?

Did you notice them, in those long years

We spent on the road, did you ever see

Something familiar in the way their necks craned

To take the sun in as best as possible?

In their lithe figures, growing tall, always reaching,

Always trying to get closer?

Did you ever notice?

*

Be still my heart, don't give us out.

We can't afford to lose him, of all others he's the only one who never left,

He's the only one who was always there,

But there are limits for everyone and to know this would only pain him.

I don't know what'd hurt more, if he turned away

Or if he stayed but with uneasiness in his smile, wariness in his touch.

It's better he never notices.

you hide your darkness

behind the beguiling eyes and easy smiles

and it’s hard to believe I ever left.

it’s hard to remember why I ever left -

but as a shadow falls across your face I know exactly why.

..............

no. I mustn’t think about it.

*

tulpa. I see it, every time I look at you for a moment too long,

I swear I see it - can’t you feel its weight on the seat?

[have you noticed yet how fleeting my glances have become?

wild animals, ready to run at the very sign

of you noticing them]

I don’t want to.

*

as you drive, day after day, I feign sleeping, childishly pretending

I don’t see the nightmare sitting between us,

trying to convince myself there’s nothing more

than brotherly affection in your gaze.

(yet I remember perfectly why I left

-

mustn’t think about it. mustn’t. mustn’t.)

*

gods help me, I know how to kill monsters,

but what do I do when it sits and waits for me to name it

and smiles my brother’s smile

and I have to pretend everything’s fine?

what do I do when I have to make myself believe

everything’s

                                   just

                       fine?

(and it lurks and waits and calls me sammy

and I wish for nothing more than to wake up somewhere, anywhere else)

____________________________________

samdeanpoetrychallenge

prompt: hell house

if I was your name whispered in the dark,

I’d run gently down your back, reaching for all the tomorrows

you offer me, however many of those you’d care to give.

if I was yours.

*

but when it mattered to you that I’d be a rock,

I was the ocean under the winter sky;

and so you ran from me, me who wanted nothing more

than to be called yours, no other words attached,

only yours.

*

if I was the land, and able to carry you

my whole life, I would call it a life well spent.

every day with you touching me, with me being strong enough

to hold you up through all the storms.

a good life.

and the eyes tightly shut, day by day steals by.

I don’t want to give you words,

since the ones that grow in me do nothing but bite,

but my chest is shrinking

and if I look anywhere but at you the air dries out

like a river I can’t reach.

I guess I’m not as brave as I thought I was,

not without your warmth seeping between my ribs.

*

yet I couldn’t handle the disappointment in your

good mornings and good nights, said casually and distant,

so I keep my head high and trust you won’t fail

as I did, that you’d guide me safely where I let you stumble;

even if I do keep my eyes closed rather than facing

betrayal mixed with pity, the direct result

of knowing that the reality of me could never be

what I am in your heart.

*

and my hands may tremble at night, or whenever you sleep,

but letting you see it would mean me having to use words,

the same ones I hurt you with too often -

if I keep my head high long enough, hopefully

you won’t ever have to see the gazelle under this fake lion roar.

________________________________

spnsongchallenge

In the world where everyone had tattoos as a way of knowing their soulmates, Dean knew there was something wrong with him from the time he learned what the writings on his back mean. The upper one just stated 'Dee', in a childish scrawl, like something said with much difficulties but with immense joy. The first time he saw it was the day Sammy started speaking, and Dean was so proud of him, he thought he'd burst. He wasn't sure, but he thought Sam should've started talking already, and every day he was a bit more scared, but that day showed that his Sammy is perfect, that there was nothing Dean did wrong.

When he went to shower, something on his lower back caught his eye, and when he took a better look at it there was the word, the innocent, three-letter word that just confirmed what Dean was feeling from the moment he first held Sammy: he was his world.

But the lower, lower one was a jumble of words, of  'Dean!' and ' …got him' and it hurt when Dean touched it. He saw Dad from time to time holding his back, even when it was a while since the last hunt, but he refused to think of the implications of that.

He never saw Sam's words, since the tattoos were hidden from others, but he tried not to think of them. He didn't want to know if there was someone else for Sammy, or if Sammy decided to leave even though Dean was his mate – Dean honestly couldn't tell which would make him feel worse so never asked about them.

The first time when he saw Sam falling, Dean's name still on his lips, his old fears about back pain were confirmed – it meant he'd live through the searing pain of losing his Sammy, and he just couldn't allow that. So he went and sold his soul, his half of it, because he didn't have any use for it with the other half missing, and never regretted what he did.  Sammy was his world, so how would Dean live on if he was gone? It was all okay, as long as Sam lived.

And then suddenly the Winchesters were important – to heaven, to hell, to everyone. Well, not really important, nobody still gave a damn about them, but they were something valuable to be used. The pressure started building up and one tortured night, while the wind outside was moaning and rattling the cheap motel doors, Sam came to Dean and told him what was on his back. Told him there was love and sacrifice and Sam's name and that until now he was afraid of what would Dean would say, but that he doesn't care anymore, with the end almost upon them.

Sammy told Dean he was gonna fix it all, that it was gonna be okay. Something in Dean shivered on those words, but he couldn't really think about them, not with Sam in his arms, with his dreams finally coming true. But when the morning came, cold, autumn morning, and brought the hell itself with it, when Dean saw his world collapse for the second time (and even the first one was too much), when Sam whispered his encouragement to Dean, Dean knew they must be cursed.

Was it that they would love too much? Was it that they would let everyone else die before they let go of each other? He didn't know, and he couldn't care anymore. For him, the end came with Sam falling, once again, and Dean failing to catch him, once again.

_______________________________________

if I close my eyes, I can still feel

the same earthquake I cried swallowing you in,

the remains of it erupting all over my skin.

*

[it was supposed to be me.

me, dean!

I even laid down but you didn’t let me fall asleep]

*

but the day will come when I’ll get to be

the older brother

and watch you be born again,

even if this mother doesn’t always have golden hair

and a patient smile.

*

while we were lowering you down

I swear she cried too, and the rumbling in her chest