lover of the past, lover of the light, lover of the things that keep you up in the night
i walk the line, feel for time and touch things that aren’t necessarily mine
he said, “maybe i’m a tease, maybe i like when you’re on your knees”
i dance with a tune that lusts for blues and ooze words that seem true
yet i look at light and wonder why, i could die and i have and i’ve given everything
but i look at the letters beneath words and stand at doors like a sinful whore
i remember the time at birds and how the sign behind began with beware
how i looked in your eyes and sat and smiled yet the lingering notions submerged
subconsciously should’ve seen, but you always liked a pitiful knee
sitting on borrowed time and how none of this was essentially mine
you sit in the snow while i bake in the sun, you held the gun while i held home
never knew or felt or kissed upon a thing that you could remember
your drink and fun and alcohol was the pun
i laugh in the distance and it’s not a question of my sanity
regardless of all those times i asked if you thought i was crazy
it’s because i look at a daisy and wonder the color while you look and wonder whether or not it’ll sprout when you’re under
i’m the thunder in the distance when the fog seeps in
the one that would’ve held your hand till the last breathe
but time has seethed and our moment has passed
it’s no longer a wonder of how it might’ve been but what it was and those bittersweet moments of how it began
— “beware within birds“ by