#wendyscomet

Curled up in our own atmosphere

we made a cocoon

suspended between two itchy oaks

our tranquil breathing rocked us

to a sweet swaddled swing

We were supposed to watch the sun fall

but in a dream, did I,

with my legs running

and eyes crying

fighting and forging

but held was I,

so tight.

The sun fell.

And so did I. 

They were just lost

in the mannequins of their minds

and in the bowl they were surrounded

and by trees engulfed

but they drew in the breath

that the moonlight gave

when it poured into the river

with spotted stars like granite 

And they were beautiful

because they were lost

We stood there amidst the concrete and pebbles

you bid your adieu

and said you were off to write

to write about everything

to write about nothing

to write about things you questioned

and things you knew

but how these related to me

I will never understand

but with pretentious lips

I spit the most vindictive defense

but it was a lie

so if that was what you would gather

from the tiny grey rocks beneath us

maybe what you were off to write

is exactly what you said that you would 

I hate how I felt

when I asked 

I knew the answer

but I know I didn't want to hear it

from the lips I wish I could call mine

but they were too busy on hers

and now poisoned 

by her venom

causing you to lie

and tell me exactly what I wanted to hear

He was never quite sure, 

especially when it came to her

of things he always believed true

with the wind came the rue.

And when the grass shook in unison

he could never rest in conclusion.

So he threw up his hands

in a distraught face he stands,

enveloped in the wind, bound and constricted, 

watercolors of conflict depicted.

Hoping for the warm moon

expecting the typhoon

he was constantly shackled by the gusts

and his mind ready to combust.