there's an evil calm that snakes its way through this house
a quiet light that's almost too faint to see
and as i lie here on my back
i look up at the twinkling stars
the reds
the greens
the occasional flashes of stucco walls
i feel myself rising up to meet them
even though i think i'm light years away
i can hear the upstairs neighbors yelling
because sometimes
sometimes
love
isn't the answer
and gravity is too hard to bear
Category: poems
-
-
i can see you up there in the mountains climbing your way up to a life i've left behind it’s so weird to see your friends my friends once but i was just visiting wasn’t i? do you remember crying on the floor? not wanting it to be the end scratching my fingernails into the wood i'd hoped it'd hurt, but it had felt right you know it would have been a nightmare don't you? an awful twisting dark sleep paralysis on a never-ending loop dark forests in new england horse drawn wagon pulling us in warm breath swirling around us hot mead waiting inside and the snow was falling so softly a blanket i wanted to dive into but then i realized i didn’t love you for the first time and no amount of adventure or honeyed wine could change me i’m so relieved you’re happy and i watch on wondering what would have happened if i hadn’t been who i am
-
if it wasn’t then it’s gonna be now tell me how how you think we’ll get out of this there aren’t many nights left of you and i i can feel it in my bones every inch of this place feels wrong forced like my smile in the picture when we picked apples you were so happy i never corrected you no one knows when i’m acting my crowning achievement i lost and left so much of myself back then i can’t remember what used to move me forward what made me wade through tides of uncertainty you always kept me anchored to shore so on the night it ended i can’t remember anything else except finally feeling free
tales from the cove 