and so it is.

everything i wanted to say - and didnt.

honey and milk. 

i was trumped by my past today. i cover my eyes, and i still see you. i sit in the candle light, rubbing the back of my neck and cracking my ankles waiting on the words that have not previously escaped me to arrive in a flourish, to explain it all. tears hit my knees, and wiping them away as if their soot i sit back and wonder why i said the things i did. i wonder as to why i even spoke at all. when i was told as a child that love should take your breath away, i didnt know it meant that you might never breathe with ease again. ive maintained such a hellbent strength this year, holding my heart between my teeth with passionate conviction. ive had what i felt was everything, and lost it. and then there i was, being reborn under the moonlight in your arms; the first time since i knew for sure that my heart still possessed another function besides simply keeping me alive. i am the keeper of secrets, i have perfected the craft. so who am i to test you for keeping them? i see it all, page after page. i think of my writing here, my wounds fresh and exposed for the world’s salt, plenty of my misfortune, misadventures, all the people i’ve mislead. some are full of him, sure. but its not empty of you. sitting in the passenger seat gasping for air from all the nervous cigarettes and anxiety that’s running its course, tightly bound in my chest, i manage to say “i need all of you…..or nothing..” and when you reply “you have all of me,” your eyes tie any loose ends in my mind. i look down at our fingers intertwined. i think of how nice it is that at least you hold my hand while im drowning.

could you see a home in me? the differences might be lost on me, but i’m pushing this hard waiting for you to pull me towards you. gravity gets a hold of me in the form of reality. reality was falling asleep in your arms, realizing that comfort was only an inn before you arrived. happily grounded, my filthy feet lay at rest. the escapist in me has come face to face with a better heart. my wanderlust spirit is alive with a companion, who is content to stay the same as such. i trace my fingers around your jaw, kissing you with my eyes closed tight. i will hold on through the current, i will tread the water until my legs go out. just because it hurts, doesnt mean its wrong. maybe you’ve just got to hurt until you get it right. i am superimposed in my own heart, how could i expect any less?


  1. littlewar posted this