I want to touch you from here---to see your green eyes fill with bated tears and the way they seem to hold me, even oceans away.
Let’s forget the last 10 years. Lets forget the coke, the X, and the pills.
Lets forget the mental institution.
Lets forget how you just tried to kill yourself, stabbing a hair away from the femoral artery.
We haven’t spoken in months. But I know you, like breath. I miss you.
Some people build whole cities in your heart.
Im not sure if its that im rushing or its that im realizing this is one moment stretched like a gummy worm and turning chalky at its sinews.
Im not sure what really grows at the junction of trust and apathy. I think its likely weeds. Beautiful weeds that grow magenta and lilac and outside of all our empty demands to disappear they continue to thrive here and we’ll continue to pretend we’ll get around to picking them but really just admire how the sunlight dances on their dew.
I wish to be you for a moment and not remind you of your beauty or how much you are loved or even how this is all a dream. I wish more to hold you from the inside with steady hands and feel you being held, completely.
I wish more for you to give up.
But not in that way of finding an artery with a sharp blade but in the way of giving it all up.
Letting it all rise belly-up to the surface like a billion tiny jellyfish.
Because the truth is in the spaces.
And life, real life, is in the synapse--The tiny firework we wish to milk from
and are born from each time we wake up
to the all the pockets of air in between.