Saturday, September 17, 2011

day 55

Autumn #17

I've watched the moon turn into suns
and sons into happy gentlemen
As long as I can remain weightless,
the pull of tides will dance towards me

The cicadas will always sing my brother's name
Winter is approaching
I don't know where the bees go when it gets cold
but I will never forget our childhood mockeries
They sing to me lullabies that tell stories of clocks,
melting into icicles
Time freezes, yall
And the mockingbird will rest in peace tonight

Stories finish
Sometimes happy, most of the time broken
I've braced myself for the fifth chapter of every book
That is when the paper cuts grow deeper
My hands have become vines attached to words
There is always a hello behind a heartbreak

Silence isn't real
I can't fall asleep in sound proof basements
My dreams never fail to keep me awake

I've felt colder winters on summer loving nights
Stop and think, love
It may not be cold outside
People give up warmth for lust in exchange of happiness
Now tell me, how long can you really see yourself holding my hand?
I'm starting to grow warm in my own skin

If I am able to speak this peace,
then I have found a home
If you are able to hear this peace,
then I am welcoming you with open arms

My wants are pulling me left
and my needs are pulling me right
I don't know where I'll end up in 10 years
but I'll sleep soundly in sound proof basements with the knowledge
that my dreams have pulled me forward

Dreams exist when happy gentlemen love their sons
and when suns turn into moons
Wishes sink to the bottom of broken ocean floors
but you can pull tides in your direction with just a hint of passion

Id love to watch someone fall in love 
and feel their souls immerse in beach tears
Silence is the stinging of sea salt on naive eyes
I now see that birds fly South when love freezes over,
but the bees drown themselves in cicada cries
A love lost will grow like vines onto my lungs
This is done for the day I become completely weightless
and discover that I can still breathe after catching paper cuts

It takes 17 years for a cicada to shed its skin and sing
Well tonight
I am 18
and I've found a home in words

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