Gods.

Your steady strides among my willowy ways keep all the stray bits we exude safe.

This orbit hasn’t been smoothly floating around the sun. We’ve faltered in each other’s atmospheres, had to burn up, refusing to be done.

Storming the galaxy, clawing new paths that we may better fit through. We haven’t burnt out yet, me and you.

Swallowing all the black holes that have foolishly swelled in our path, exhale them out, dust to dust, cosmic things were always beneath us.

So throw your fire, World. Do your worst. We have been surviving everything you hurl.

I am his. He is mine. Celestial wonders made from the devine.

Advertisements

The Cleanse.

Not everyone can see. It’s quiet and it’s messy, but I’m putting back my favorite parts of me.

Sometimes I come unraveled and have to follow back those threaded trails. Rewind the skein and start again. Over and over, it seems.

Careful to not cut myself on the jagged pieces I’ve dropped and shattered, I polish them and make them better. I don’t want the tarnished parts that I used to carry. I don’t want the bitterness or wounds to blur my clarity.

Eras ended and ages began. Leave behind broken and dust off my hands. Rinse and ring out that old bleeding heart. Sun dried and fresh, not new, the beginning of a restart.

All the disastrous pieces smoothed into the perfectly fitting parts. It’s been messy and quiet and a lovely cleanse for my dearest heart.

Supposed to.

It’s heart flutters that scare you when they come. You can’t control them and the beating hurts in your throat.

Breathing turns into something you forget that you’re supposed to know.

If I think too hard these days I can’t breath and the beating comes hard and fast. I lose my calm and I don’t know how you always experience that.

It’s sharp fog that swells and surges inside my chest. It doesn’t let me out and I practice how to breathe. It builds and stacks and I’m left a fragment of who I used to be.

There were tangles and there was starry eyes. There were carefree and wine soaked laughter filled nights.

Clouded eyes and clouded chest, I don’t remember when I got like this. You hurt my feelings and aren’t too bothered when you’re mean. This isn’t what it’s supposed to be. You loved a girl who used to be wild and free…you don’t like what I’ve become but now I second guess everything.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Fight.

Forged in different fires our steel didn’t come out the same. Different hammers and stones. Forged from fire I thought we would weather the same.

Battles scar up the shiny steel. Can it battle, can it fight, can it still kill? Do they want a solid weapon that stays steady and falls true? What else does steel need to do?

I want to be strong and I want to stay straight and tall. You don’t seem to want to fight at all.

Fight for your flag or fight knowing if you don’t, there won’t be anything at all.

Where is the steel that is forged from our flames? Fire signs don’t bend, they don’t tame.

When did indifference replace your love of my sword? When did I become something that wasn’t worth fighting for?

Dead Bodies.

I can’t live off of Neverminds. I can’t eat them and sustain this half life. I can’t live in quiets where no one is supposed to make sound.

How did we get here, anyhow?

I can’t breath in that solid air. I can’t survive on wondering why you don’t speak like you care. I’m trying to relay what I’d want to hear, how’d I’d listen, the very oxygen I hold dear.

I’m trying to stay calm. I’m trying to find ground to share. I’m being shoved further and can’t call for help because help isn’t there.

I don’t know what to say anymore so I swallow all the salt. I’ll swallow it all until you don’t have to hear me gurgle with everything that is my fault.

Drowned bodies still float, you see. They may look alive from a distance but they are still dead in the sea. Picked apart by fish, just like you and me.

We pick apart the flesh that hangs, bloated in the water. We pick it all apart until we are full, yet starved, and have nothing left. We gorge on the decay and rot from within and now neither one of us knows what to say.

I want to climb in this raft with you. This life line that can take it all away. I want to steer our little life boat back to land, just breath, just stay.

Ice.

We walk along this frozen river. Snow padding all the cracks. We sometimes tread too hard and know there is no going back.

Lightning shapes creep along the seams, fissures where it used to be smooth and clean.

Spreading with a wild fire we stand still and watch the cracks splinter at our feet. Stand still or run, please, just cling to me.

If we get sucked under into the icey current I want to feel you there. I want your body with mine, feel for the surface, swim in darkness searching for the air.

We walked along the ice hoping we wouldn’t fall through. Sometimes the ice breaks. Sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t want us to break, too.

North.

He is the sunlight dappled through the trees. Lost among the forest, I feel his warmth protecting me.

Lost along the sea shore his gentle waves guide me home. Wandering the sands he won’t let me wander all alone.

High tides brought me here and pull me out away from him. He is the light tower that shines my way back in.

My compass always turns. I’ll go West, I’ll go South, I go where the wind blows. I get lost looking for where the sea goes. He is the steady North that always guides me home. He is the poles that let the magnet always know.

He is the sunlight keeping me safe from being lost alone among the trees. He is the sunlight that warms my skin and knows I get lost sometimes just being me.

Fall.

You are Fall. You are cool breezes blowing orange leaves. You are the smell of firewood and hazy smiles through smoke. You are the smell of the Earth beneath my bare feet. You are the mountain that glints golds and muted greens…the honey color in your eyes that runs through all the Fall leaves.

You are a clear and cool night under an indigo sky. The pin pricks from the stars that for us, are perfectly aligned. You are the handhold in camp chairs, warm and close, soft and quietly there.

You are Fall. Whiskey that warms from the inside. That slow sip that leaves you smiling more and more like you just had your first kiss. You are that season that I just can’t possibly skip.

You are Fall and I will always walk your winding roads to be part of the leaves turning and the greens turning to gold. Those dark golden honey hughs that I get to swim through, those eyes that softly reflect everything in mine…You are the season I could never leave behind.

Me first.

For me it happens at night. That quiet voice in the front of my mind. It whispers and does everything to remind–I don’t have you here and I might have ruined what I love calling mine.

If it happens to you, I’ll understand. If you need to leave me after I have left, I wouldn’t blame you, orĀ  point an unfair hand.

…but please, please, when you hear the voice come whispering, call me like you know I’m your person. When the voice tries to unravel the rope we have tried to tie tight, call me no matter how dark the cloud covered night.

Because while I’m gone and while I try to teach little mermaids to swim again, I am terrified of losing you to the tides that we are trying to swim.

At night the voice consumes me and I don’t want to cry so I don’t call. The whispers feed on my fears and live in my bones. They sleep when the light comes out and come calling when there is no sound to drown them out. I’ll stifle my pleas and confusion that brings me to my knees. What have I done and how do I save them all…including me?

If you need to cut the rope that keeps us together from shore to sea, I’ll understand, I promise. You mean everything to me. I’ll understand but I won’t survive. I’ll swallow salt and won’t float up like the other times.

I love you more than foamy shores, than homes that aren’t homes, and salt water covered oars. If that voice comes calling, call me first. Please, please, darling, call me first.