You promised me the skyline amongst
other things that you could never give.
But the path stopped short at your booted feet
when the years became a greater difference
between our grinding teeth.
There isn’t much to say, just as there never was.
And when you started with those crocodile tears
I was glad to say adieu.

We started running circles as we had done
in the years before the green and hazel met.
In the moments of our crisis we prayed silently
to a god that neither of us believed existed.
We kept our dreams and wishes apart from
the fate in which we fought so hard against.
Our chances of lasting through state lines
and many days of absence were slim to
none, we knew this. And yet, we placed
everything on the table for the next round
and hoped the bridge would never burn.
We could have spent the rest of our lives
trying to figure out which turn was wrong
and which one was right,
or who we were,
or who we loved,
or what was real. 

Lacey thoughts
and crimson rings
cover everything
your eye sees.
Knights in bronze
armor in stampede
tumble over edge
down,
  

        down,

                  into your wicker brain.

I’ve been chasing the birds
that make you for so long,
I wanted to quit, but I was
afraid that I wouldn’t find
the birds of any other man
beautiful enough to start again.
I’ve caught the bird that makes
your mind, at least that’s what
you say. But I’ve been chasing
your birds through this endless
sky for far too long.
I’m done chasing yours.
I’ve already caught someone else’s.

I was going through my old journal and decided to share some random pieces. Sorry for blowing up your dashboards.