and what a beautiful name too.
you were there when I was born,
with egg shells sprinkled around my eyes.
you flew me there, dark but still polished.
when do you sleep? when do I wake?
i remember it,
the burning device on my hand, red eyes and sore arms.
we’ve now been able to sleep with our eyes closed.
we put our knives down,
and picked them back a couple of times,
but that’s okay because I wouldn’t yell at you either.
it’s been so long, i stand staring out for you on the beach still,
hoping our clouds connect and our days go well.
i’d say that stupid boy should leave you alone,
you’d say he would be lost without me.
You’d say that she should have known,
i’d say i just wanted her to know me.
and our parents hated us for their issues,
familiar and familial.
you found your life’s joy in my eyes
the brown you loved.
after years and years, i saw you in brown
and we sat and smoked and talked and hugged and left.
at a bar you hated that hated us with poor company,
I did nothing this time, and it leaves me in your time zone.
that’s familiar to me and you, though.
i think of you every September,
hoping you’ll call, wondering if we’re any different
i’m well aware you left him in his woes,
and you know that she became smaller and smaller.
unsurprisingly, we rode waves and things get worse,
then things get better and then you get fired and then I do too.
you never asked me, but I know.
the white began to show, and the rest came later.
i became something I always was,
and you became something i hoped you wouldn’t.
you can stay in the middle of me and what I ran away from.
you’ll never ask me, and you’ll never know.