its three am and im thinking about you
in every way imaginable (except the bad ones)
and everything reminds me of the boy i knew
the boy i know with his soft skin, soft eyes, soft lips
in everything i see him
in a room full of purity and truth
with eyes dark around their rim
and shaking hands wrapped around coffee cups
in the shade of a palm tree
in warmth and safety
in the finality of knowing we are free
in everything right about this world
in sunsets, the light of them bleeding out
in space and stars speckling a cool sky
on a dirt path; a familiar route
peace.
they said that storms were angry and destructive
that i had to pick between two options
luck, or love?
and i pegged them as traitors and liars
i feel so fucking guilty that you had to leave me behind
that i let my mind control me
that i worked as a zombie
that i scared you
god, i wish i picked up on something sooner
i really thought you were dead
but really you were just so afraid of me
that you thought making it seem that way was a viable option
i will regret this; make no mistake
i do regret this
i know i hurt you
i couldnt pick up and try
i messed up while i was scared myself
and i regret it
you were there for me!
you saved my life!
and i repayed you with nothing
i gave you dirt
and you realised it
and you got out
i followed you
to try to figure out what i did wrong
but i did more harm
and inflicted terror on you
you just ran
but i promise - i have finally burnt the bridges i built
and i have finally locked the gateways
and the keys are in the ocean trenches
i will not catch up with you
the clouds shall move across the sky
and i have watched them go
tomorrow is a new day
storms come
as suddenly as they go
and i have discovered this
in a boy like the storms
he was not angry
he was not destructive
but rather; i was
and i caused a great havoc
i let myself wear him down
i let myself destroy him
via neglect
via fear
i hope time mends your wounds
and i hope in time you find everything
everything you lost; everything you need
and i hope you love who you are
oh, my dear friend
i will sleep in a world you once knew
and if you wish to wake me
you know how to find where i rest
but for now
and more than likely always
thank you
et au revoir
he's rubble, you are aware. he's damaged and cracked and fucked up beyond repair. but oh, do you find god in him. and like god - or whatever is up there, there's no good reason for believing in him but you’ll do it anyway.
you find god in his tired blue eyes that look like the sky he made fall. you find god in his hair as dark as soot. you find god in his teasing, knowing smirk. you find god in his coat that's like a bomb but more pleasant, smelling like cigarettes and vanilla and safety. you find god in his own little bubble of delusion, in the wind whipping around you on a peaceful summer day. you find god in his own slow self-destruction.
