A not-so unsent letter to my partner (in crime :p).

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear ~~~~,

Recently 

You told me 

You fell for me 

The day we first met,

And when you got to know me better

You only fell harder.

That I was a hallway crush

And a dream come true.

I could not believe that.

How could I?

It would only make our story 

That much more painful.

You, a child born of the stars,

Imbued with their light

Wanted someone like me, 

A mere shadow, a trick of that same light.

I was torn between being flattered and crushed

By the knowledge that you could have 

So much more.

But I am still a selfish creature of the twilight

So when I heard a rumour you were to be whisked away by another

My heart plummeted

And jealousy stirred an ugly tempest in my stomach

I prayed you would reject this offer

And when I heard you did, I'm sure my cheeks flushed

And I sighed in relief, not even realising the weight of it all.

I don't know when exactly I fell for you,

But that's when I figured it out.

That I wanted more.

Such an ugly way to find out something so beautiful, so

I like your story better.

Dear ~~~~,

You are my moon, and I your tide.

I'm so sorry I pull you close one moment,

And then push away the next;

Shower you in affection and attention,

Then shy away when it matters.

It is woven in my nature, but that is no excuse.

You're intoxicating, you know

I can't possibly get enough of you, and you say you feel the same

But I'm afraid,

So very afraid

It won't last forever

So I flee, fabricate distance between us

Like that will trick your heart into forgetting me

And trick me into not caring that it hurts.

I'm so sorry I am seized by fright, become flighty and

Leave you to fend for yourself

The truth is, I know danger will follow me

So like a mother bird flees her nest to protect,

To divert the attention of a predator,

I leave you behind so that my presence elsewhere might keep you safe.

After all, 

Who would stand under a tree in a storm, knowing lightning will strike?

You, apparently.

You wait, ever patient, fully aware of the danger and it scares me 

How little regard you seem to hold for your own well-being.

I want you to cut me off, and maybe you will if I'm cold and cruel enough

But I desperately want you to want me, too.

You never do push me away and I wonder, is it just a matter of time?

Selflessness for a friend or love for someone more? Or perhaps just recklessness?

Your steadfast patience frightens me, though I admire it,

I can't help but feel this unfamiliar virtue would best be spent elsewhere,

On someone more worthy.

Your gentle tone of understanding when I inevitably return only stings harder, makes my guilt multiply.

How can you, amazing as you are, be so happy to stand by someone like me?

I hope you realise I do not gain any pleasure from my actions either.

Dear ~~~~,

The other day I made a promise

To you and to me.

I'm done hurting you “for your own sake”

I'm done running, when I should stay

I realise I am in the wrong to think

Me going for good will hurt for just a moment, a small pinch

And then everything will be fine in your world again.

I have steeled my resolve to stand by you;

It seems the best way to honour your devotion is to return it

Best I can.

I will no longer be swept away by my fears,

No matter how intensely they whisper in my ears.

I care about you immensely

And so I will do my best 

To make you the happiest person alive.

Truly, #####

I have many fears

About just about everything

But the only thing you seem to fear

Is being forgotten.

Maybe that's why we're perfect for each other 

For I never forget

As much as I wish I could

It's all blazed into my memory, carved into my soul.

All the happy times stick with me,

Yes, they ache with the distance we keep

But I still remember the rest, too.

Your arms slung around my shoulders

Under the stars, sobbing into me,

Holding on like I was a lifeboat,

While all I could do was look up,

Tearless, trying too hard to be strong

So hard it didn't take any effort,

The hurt confusion etched into your brows

On the ride home 

The way you crumpled as you sat alone

Despondent days later.

Watching it all unfold, it hurt,

But not in a way that made me cry

Rather in a way much deeper

And I fear you took it the opposite way ---

That I didn't care at all. 

That's why I'm confused when you let me back in

The moment I faltered in my conviction

To keep my distance.

It hurt to see the hope in your eyes,

Knowing I could never stay.

Not when it meant hurting you again.

I still remember, and all these memories come together

Like water drawn from all corners of the earth

From the roots

Into the stem,

From the stem

Up to the blossom, blooming.

Just like that I had a new conviction ---

Not to leave you behind.

You haven't noticed yet, have you.

How I'm never present, always spacing out?

You haven't noticed yet?

How I only smile when someone is looking, only fake happy?

You haven't noticed?

How I'm trying to pretend everything's fine, when it's actually about to shatter into a million pieces? 

No, you haven't.

                      08/18/2024 

let's bake pie on rainy days until 

my house smells like cinnamon and 

wake up early to get coffee and bagels before 

we walk to school and

pretend to fill your water bottle because 

the captain of the soccer team is lounging beside

the water fountain and I haven't worked up the courage

to talk to him yet and 

let's hike in the hills behind the football field when 

it has just begun to snow and 

talk until we're late to class and 

make the teacher laugh until 

she doesn't mark us tardy and

dance in the middle of the gym and 

ride the ferris wheel at the county fair so 

we can pretend we're tall and 

get pastries for lunch from

the bakery down the street when 

my hands get all shaky again and 

let's not forget the taste of being seventeen 

in these mountains 

in this town  

let's not move away 

let's not grow up 

because I can feel time 

slipping between my fragile fingers and

what will I do when you're not there to make them go still? 

When we write

we wallow

When we live

we forget

When we run

we gain

When we stop

we lose

When we see

we know

When we sleep

we remember

When we think

we find

until there's nothing more 

Do I live

in the past?

Do I see

in the future?

Do I act

in the present?

Time can not tell

there are no words 

for it wasn't the

there are no barriers

thing I was thinking

there are no excuses

about in the first place.  

the end

I fear

the beginning

When there's

nothing left

it's much

calmer. 

They say that

our minds

decive us,

what about

our eyes?

Am I ready?

Not really,

I finally see

who you are,

and that's someone

who wants what

I can't give.

Speaking of which,

when my words

slipped

you caught it

I think you know

how I feel.

I know how

you feel

(a little bit)

you think I'm

a monster

and yet you're

still standing here,

when there was

no bloom in

the first place.

You're used

to an open book

ready to read

Well, I'm

a little locked,

and the key

isn't here. 

And I'm not

interested

in finding it.

I'm sorry,

I wasn't

what you

were looking

for.  

When I look around

the dark and damp

forest, it's just rained

gray sky looks

down at me

and says

"Why are you here?"

Or maybe, it's

my mind that says that

because this feels like home

when it shouldn't.

Green leaves, dark corners

that the sun gave up on

the songbirds aren't the ones

in my blood, neither

are the black bears

mountain lions,

these wolves never knew me

So why does this feel like home?

the river, brown and murky,

angry, it pushes everything down

it's nothing like turquoise

So why does this feel like home?

this sun just burns like it's doesn't want me

while the other one warms me like a welcome

home since forever.

The land I tread right now

is one that was never mine is the

first place.

So why does it feel like home?

When the eagles come out,

their white heads and tails

are burned in my brain

Flying like the wind has nothing

on them. I want to call out,

why?

they weren't the ones that

rasied my people

they weren't the ones that

flew across the world to

meet at the land that my

ancestors built

when the moon looks down at me

it isn't the one I'm supposed to know.

yet, I love it

(maybe it doesn't feel

the same about me)

the smells of earth and rain

aren't the scents that

carry down the mountains

of the oracle, and yet

I feel at peace.

What am I supposed to feel?

Like I'm an intruder in the place

I grew up? 

on top on the antique

television cabnit, like

everything in my house,

it's very old.

My house was

built in 1903,

small but sturdy,

don't go in the basement,

covered in cobwebs,

limestone walls,

looks like a dungeon,

Nothing but junk

and dead bugs

down there.

Back to the story,

There's a old book

on top on the antique 

television cabnit, like

everything in my house,

it's very old.

Leather bound with fancy

designs.

Placed on the top

where I can't reach,

Don't know where it was found

don't care,

used to look at it.

All it is, is places

to put pictures

and all the pictures

Are of Victorian people

frowning at the camera.

Odd placement.

Some pictures are gartherned

in the front, whiles there's

a few in the back.

Big spaces in between

like the people wanted

to forget about those ones

in the back. 

Some are faded so that the faces

are gone. Used to joke that they

were ghosts,

maybe are

maybe aren't

I don't know why the owner

didn't take the book and left

it here, and will probably never.

They don't belong

to my family

and never will.

Maybe to the house,

but not us.

The point?

nothings happend

so far.

You ask me why I do

what I do

But my answer dies

on my lips,

Because there's no answer

You ask me why I love

what I love

And I have no response

Intuition?

Instinct?

I have been thinking

about this for a while

but I can't find an answer.

I can't explaine why I'm

the way I am. 

It slips through my lips

Like rainwater from leaves

We try to hold it up, hold it in

And instead it just spirals,

Gaining more traction, more mass

Until it's too much and it fully condenses,

The bubble bursts

The raindrop falls 

The words pitter-patter

Like a steady shower

Until they're over, the shower's passed

And there is just silence.

Cold, clammy silence.

Silence like a hand on your throat,

Just resting

Not squeezing

But close enough to say something.

"I love you, but-"

But what?

Even I know the words I say next are ugly. 

They've been festering for a lifetime

And I can't stop them now.

I know I'm not enough,

Which is why I put on a pretty smile

And say such cruel things.

Maybe that will get you to push me away,

Give me the nothingness I deserve.

Maybe then I won't have a panic attack

Wondering what your next words will be

Because I know what they will say now:

Go away. 

I am a Lost One.

I just wander these familar halls

Full of empty faces;

People I don't know and never will.

Perhaps I take comfort

In the impersonality of it all

Walls the colour of thunderclouds,

Bland linolium-tiled floors.

I am a nobody, going nowhere

Just existing here

Because where else would I go? 

Through the screen

You can't hear my voice

Not as it really is.

Voice recordings only do so much,

Typed words are so obviously lacking

And video doesn't capture my face 

In the way that it really is.

You can't even see the fake black smile

I wear through my words,

Hear the strain in my voice,

The clipped-ness of my tone.

You don't realise that I'm falling apart at the seams

But if you saw me in person

Would that make any difference?