Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it’s all over.
I’ll never again feel as tall as the sky and as old as the hills and as strong as the sea. I’ve been given something for a while, and the price of it is that I have to give it back. And the reward is giving it back, too. No human could live like this. You could spend a day looking at a flower to see how wonderful it is, and that wouldn’t get the milking done. No wonder we dream our way through our lives. To be awake, and see it all as it really is… no one could stand that for long.
Sometimes, I want to tell you everything.
I want to tell you about how I love listening
to overplayed pop music in the car.
Want to tell you I eat peanut butter sandwiches at 1am
and that I have been buying family portraits
at thrift stores ever since my parents divorced.
If I were braver I would filet my own chest,
show you my fleshy, forgotten parts.
My anxious, swollen ribs and my fickle, flakey heart.
I don’t want to scare you off with it
but I know this dance too well.
I know that right now you are probably toying
with the idea of starting to call me baby,
know that you are beginning to
drench every thought of me in
bubblegum, fringed hair, and sundresses.
Please, don’t make me your sunshine
or your happy
or a better version of your mother.
I am so exhausted with boys looking at me
and seeing futures that I just can’t become.
The other night, we were spooning in your bed
and I wanted to turn to you and ask
if you believed in an afterlife.
Wanted to tell you that lately I’ve been thinking
that I know there is a God
but I’m not sure if he’s listening.
Right there, right then,
I could have told you everything
but I just kissed you instead.
You reminded me of rain when I first met you, like when I look through a window after not having looked at it all day, only to find out that it has been raining all along, and I stare longingly with halcyon feelings I once felt before and every feeling I hope to feel after realizing you.
…it will be possible, in the time of the wolf, to kill the gods.
I heard what you said. I’m not the silly romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want gemstones or gold. I have those things already. I want a steady hand, a kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe.
oh god 2.0 