#muse bros

[sassoonery]

I break the language into small bits,
swallow some, put the rest in the back
of a cupboard where no light can reach. 
When I speak, rain puddles and rivers
meander further south. Only the squirrels
notice. There is no one in church,
not even a lost angel. I have the hallelujahs
to myself. Some words strain behind
my teeth, some sandpaper my throat. 
They want out, so badly. I’m careful
but it only takes one slip, one hesitant pause.
In the cold winter air, words are suspended
between bulbous clouds, precious to some.
I try to reclaim them, lure them with honeyed
sighs. Thus, I am diminished, less 
of an alphabet, scurry of letters, forced
to make do with eye movements and facial
contortions. I am no longer the source,
the fountain, the encryption, the narrative.
There are gaps which means there are tears.
We’re in a sorry state.

[jabberamongthetrees]

I read once that the difference between a walk and a journey is how many trees you touched him under - and I wonder if we’re holding on so tightly to press minutes back into colors we’ve mixed to give the bruising a name. I used to think rain was the sound of the sun being extinguished, but now the steps you take away from me sound like that, too. If pain is the only way we can see something is unhealthy for us, I will write songs back into your bones; become the expanse of the ocean missing your reflection; my emotions tax this love. Goodbye is often  like trying to remember a dream by shutting your eyes and letting your fingers paint the first thing that comes to mind. You said you loved sunsets, and now I miss you every single night. I can no longer count the trees we’ve hugged under. A curtain of white has fallen on them, as if to tell me that our Shakespearean play has actually come to an end. My bones are now blue from the frost that envelopes them instead of you. I used to think snow was the sound of Heaven’s clouds falling to Earth, but now, they seem to be the clouds that Heaven throws away. If being discarded is the only way I can see my own worth, I will freeze over my oceans of emotions; become the figure skater that will dance over them with grace and beauty. Goodbye is often like trying to remember the summer’s warmth by shutting your eyes and curling into a blanket’s embrace to recreate the feeling of being in safe, soft arms. You said you loved the moon, and now I miss you every single day.

[sassoonery]

california light rained

like the sugary something we ate

falling on his shin, my tongue, his toes

landing in his hair

car lights—fireflies out the window

laughing , fingers touching—

wind drew diamonds from the blur past

Goodbye, in the midst of it all

on the other side of the sky

he gave life twice—

once, he knows

but this he doesn’t

he let me go from the grief of his heart

as it slows—descending

it’s most difficult turn making a drumbeat

towards dark

(A never ending list of things that could’ve happened @scarletfieldsofcankanorey )

[sassoonery]

at four my baby brother was already a deep ocean though no bigger than a gust of wind

when we were at the shore with mom tanning & dad pretending none of us existed

he owned the earth in which we entrenched our innocent bodies and built a castle of sand

we blindly believed if we dug our moat just so that all roads home would smoothly mend and stretch forever

the higher we packed the sand & the more intricately we constructed windows & stairways, the safer we’d be

in our own home that came down to a castle of glass we tiptoed through hurrying for the doors, headlong into secret woods

–written for @scrappyaarondingle (via @sassoonery)

[sassoonery]

Faith, I don’t know no one ever showed me so it’s only you I serve. Sure, I know some scriptures. I’m not a total degenerate. I’m educated. But, I worship only you.

Devotion, my dear, is me sitting on the edge of your bed. Your head is in your hands, always crying & me putting my fingers inside of your tangle of curls, lifting your head to inquire why all the tears?

My fingers now under your jaw tracing the lines of tanned emotion. Your eyes still wet you spit out, “What now?” I say, “Just give me the signal & we’re out of this valley. We’ll watch it smoke and burn.”

“I love you,” you repeat over and over like a mantra.

I sit here hugging myself thinking, ‘I know.’

[sassoonery]

under our tree, under the long abandoned tree house– our knees on the grass above his objects we’d buried years before in the little kid hope that it’d all disappear– our foreheads touch and I actually laugh at your unruly curls that tickle my bare skin and the rippling sound is absurd, phenomenally absurd; you put your strong, ropy arms around my square shoulders and whisper “you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[sassoonery]

Back & Forth Back & Forth our movements mirror each; we are both simply that magnificent.

The sweat is freely flowing now & I cannot let go– no– I cannot let you win; It would be like allowing the smallest baby thrush to fly first; you miss a beat, sigh, slouch, breathe even heavier.

I poke you in the chest, you smile–I’m not sure why– I never am.

“Take off that shirt,” I say, “It’s too fucking hot.”

[sassoonery]

So you picked up all of your broken pieces and gave them to me— the stars light up the whole world as I place them on each and every part of me where I feel empty.