Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.
I don’t know exactly what I want, but I know it feels like soft hands and warm light rains. Cool fingers tapping on my scarred skin inviting me back in. Loud laughter, no clothes and bright smiles. Stupid jokes that no one finds funny. I know that I’m not supposed to notice the saline that runs down my cheeks but it’s the only thing that’s comforting to me.
Throw it out the window. I was a fool to even hold on. These broken hands are too weak. My head too high in the clouds to realize I’ve set fire to everything at my feet. It’s time to sleep.
I held you higher than those peaks that I painted in my mind. So high
the oxygen supply had been cut off to my brain, making me believe I
could fly. The biggest part of this whole collapse was that your heart
was never as big as my ego. You claimed many miles and I talked of the
deepest depths. I guess the distance from my feet to the moon had been
cut short and the oceans that once held monstrous volumes had dried up
leaving only murky puddles and salt flats that were devoid of all life,
let alone love. I’ll keep throwing bottles at the sun, hoping that maybe
one day you’ll find one. Hoping you’ll crack it open and pour out a
letter of mine into a shot glass, drink it up like honey and be reminded
of the past. So many words but not nearly enough eyes, I’m writing to a
cold ghost, a memory, a used up entity constructed from lies. You were
more than just a lover to me, I claimed you a force, you grounded me, my
gravity…
The impossibilities of the accusations had me running laps in my mind like a blind rat being forced into a maze to find the prize under a tight constrict of time. Never did a thought of deceit cross my mind for it was flooded with images of your smile and all your lies. You implied that it was me that you would live out the rest of your days with, eternity. I ate your stories like I needed their nutrients to survive. I needed honesty, loyalty, a sense of fucking drive, I never needed the Iron you fed me through your carefully constructed calumniation.
Maybe one day we will both be able to look back and realize the exact things that at this moment we lacked. Or maybe I can move past this phase of sleeping in a new bed every night and find that I am meant to love and be whole again.
I’ve taken those words and promises, packed them onto a boat and pushed them out to sea. Lit it on fire while I was at shore. I swear on everything I love I won’t let you affect me anymore.
I quit praying years ago but I’m finding myself with bruised knees and a faltering voice. Picking up the sharp pieces of this shattered soul, my bloodied fingers can’t make them fit.
They say everything heals with time but I hate these fucking clocks. I’d rather jump off a cliff than sit here and listen to these seconds tick.
