silent sun

your pretty words
they string together like ____ ____.
he never got lost in me
we got lost together
lost in the way our minds mold together
why wouldn’t we try to catch the light of a thousand stars
pull it to face the storm
use it to remember what’s ours
i never listened to what the thunder said
keep writing your stories
give life to what’s in your head
they’ll never be our story

i met you ten feet under
summer in panama, its always summer in panama
i feel the sun on my skin
it burns my irish skin
you tell me my pale is beautiful.

my heart beats
because the universe told it to
its strength inherited
by the queen who gave me life.
its warmth comes from the embrace of a man
who breathes for me
who has always told me
that this life isn’t ready
for a storm like you.

you are the storm
a hurricane, though i’ve never seen one
i know they exist.
you are the calm before the storm
a delicate breeze, one that
tickles my shoulders
and makes me pull over
i run upstairs and grab the
retro adidas jacket we bought together
that word together, it burns the tip of my tongue
the way loose leaf tea does in the middle of the winter
you said, my cheeks turned a soft shade of red
i am bound to you

all of a sudden what once was all mine
is now somebody else’s
and it’s strength, and warmth, and fire
it sits on your doorstep
waiting for you to come home.
i don’t wait, i don’t play these games
i don’t walk away either.

i left a piece of me in semmering
you held it up to the light
and gave it a nickname
you’ve got these damn wide eyes
your body a picture frame
that holds the most intricate design on the planet
you are the most intricate design on this planet
you will always hang in my hallway

sometimes the sun is so silent here
the wordsmith said that to me once
sometimes i wish it would rain
so i could blend in a little better
wipe my nose on my favorite sweater

are you awake?
i’m writing you a letter
forget about the weather
i’m living inside my head
speaking of hurricanes
we just had a hurricane
my self-reliance is fixing the window panes
and I’m waiting for stoic to show up.

have i ever told you how beautiful you are
how many sleeps until your skin is up against mine

i always think of that one time we got high
i couldn’t stop touching your face
or biting your ear because i like the taste
every moment with you
i don’t even remember what life was like
do you

i heard the sun it finally spoke
he said I’ll meet you at three
bring your pen and your book
to write the tale of crossing the seas

tell us about the greatest love story ever told, he said
tell us about when ur hair turns grey and ur limbs get old, he said
tell us about your kids and your life and your intertwined souls
tell us about the greatest love story ever told, he said

so I wrote,
my words turned gold

silent sun

Gonna Keep This Short, Like Bamae

Bam is comforting in the sense that we can sit at a cafe all day, not say a word and it won’t be weird. She’s refreshing because she tells me how it is (verbatim “you look like a dead person today”) and never really second guesses herself. But, what I appreciate the most is her willingness to teach me about cultures other than my own and her patience when I’m not always as aware as I should be. I told her this today, in an awkward attempt for a serious moment between us. She smirked (a genuine smirk, sometimes hard to tell) and pat me a few times on the shoulder. A typical response. Continue reading “Gonna Keep This Short, Like Bamae”

Gonna Keep This Short, Like Bamae