I wish I could say things will be different now, but I’m impatient. I want what I want and it’s not easy. It takes all of me. I’ve sat two decades under damp soil. I’m impatient.
You should have more by now. Have more and want less. Want normal. Want peace. Keep still and learn to float. Make them proud. The ones that are here and the ones that you’ve lost. You’re learning to manage. You’ve fallen apart.
And you’ve built worlds. And you’ve lost hope. And you’ve spoken things to life, and you’ve laid a lot to rest. Are you smarter now? What have you learned? Have you learned?
Love when you feel it so you don’t regret it again. Let him go. Love. Love what you do, love who you’ve been. Remember that you’re alive and that’s something.
Are you different now? Do you feel any different?
Baby no regrets, no regrets. It’s all the way it should be even if it’s not what we planned. It’s light as hell with the curtains drawn and the blinds pulled up. You squint and smile at me and I think you burn brighter than the sun.
I think you pull me up straight. I think I’m taller now. I lose my thoughts before they can form, but how can I miss them? You’re in every part of my head. Your dripping from my nose and your bursting through my skin. I feel you in my cheeks, burning hotter than a flame.
God I’d be with you forever. We’re all we’ve got and we’ve got it all. You glow even in the dark. We’re radioactive, I can feel it in my skin. I’ll be with you forever.
I wanted nothing more than to just be there. I wanted nothing more than to be where he was. He found me when he wasn’t looking. I saw him when I was blind. Inflamed we ignited like fuel-dipped cotton. He burned all of the white from me until I was ash and bone. Tar grey, wired wrong and combustible, I exploded. He watched. Fire and glitter. Sparkling and burning.
They don’t tell you what it’s like.
I don’t know. Maybe they do, but no one told me. Or I couldn’t hear them over the push and pull of the ocean. Too far out to see the storm clouds on the horizon or catch them waving from the shore.
I like the way it felt. All of it. The sun and the shade. Loved his hands in mine. The depth of his eyes, cool like water.
He was a lullaby. It was a dream. You couldn’t tell me that he didn’t carry heaven in his soul and home in his chest. He was home, so I moved when he did just to keep out of the rain.