The Bones of What We Believed

A poetry project about two friends, by two friends

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

Eden and the Birds and the Bees

I appreciate the flowers.

Today has been a sunny day. Nary a raindrop in the sky.

I let the hours pass by.

I lay as still as I can by green’s side. 

Rosie smiled at me on the way to mess

A big ‘ol grin like nothing you’ve seen 

I tell myself she’s also pushing down the stress

Your brother you see takes care of me, makes sure I don’t get hurt

Together us two we think of you, the things away that you have learnt

He loves them, he says, your new ideas. I cannot say the same

But I suppose he has known you longer 

And he always knows how to settle the blame. 

I wish you’d look back at our memories

apples out back

 the trees always framed

Our legs as they dangled from the highest branches

He’d cry to us

Get down from there

But I’d look up 

A butterfly would land in your hair 

And we would be happy 

So I plead go back to those days my friend 

down those wary trails

find our Eden or perhaps our fall that came here through this mail

But don’t fall from the tree

Don't worry about your brother

And don’t fret about me

Just let it be like the old days 

And let us laugh about the birds and the bees

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

Silverbells or Hell

Este, your words leave me in much distress. I don’t want to believe my brother has changed too. I don’t want to believe that he’d hurt you.

But if youre telling me

If all of this has come to pass

Then look out for yourself.

I remember now why I didn’t visit, though for you I almost did.

I feel as soft as the silverbells whose draping dripping branches I used to grasp and grip to pull myself away from the ground below

I’d sit in them, the forthright guardians of our borders, the last barrier between my family’s property and the woods, writing my thoughts and feelings of the day while my feet kicked the windchime bells my mother always tied from the bows. My thoughts weighed much less then than they do now. I can still see them from my childhood bedroom you know,  white bulbs signaling the entrance to a holy land, our holy land

I laid some here for you

Inside the yawning mouth of the devil 

The bright white flowers laying on his tongue of moss

I crawl inside and lay upon his tongue, cradled in the rocky maw like we used to be when our cheeks still bore our baby fat

Time has eaten that way from us both just the same

I want to find the comfort I always have in these dainty white flowers, but may how the seasons always seem to change

This town makes me tired. I just want to sit in the trees with you again.

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

A Camper Like Me

She’s a camper like me 

But with curly red hair 

And freckles 

She’s young 

Shes happy 

Shes free

And I think she thinks she loves him 

Shes a little bit like me.

I know it’s just a camp crush or something fun and sweet

But the only thing that I can really see

Is that she is even more blind than me

He is not who he used to be.

And I always thought he was only ever mine 

And of course no, I’m not jealous of her

Just the forest that gets all his time

But I hope she knows how to keep her eyes open 

Peeled back for signs

I wish I had earlier 

Before those damn woods were the only thing on his mind

Because something tells me that’s where it will end for them too

Where everything will end for her

The sweet girl who comes from out of state

She doesn’t belong here 

She doesn’t know the forest 

She doesn’t know him 

She doesn’t know he’d stop giving her attention 

Leave her to the wolves of the forest 

If only to satisfy their whim. 

We have a lot in common

She and I 

I’d save her if I could

But in the end we’ll both be left 

Raindrops stinging our eyes

Pried wide open

Staring at the stormy sky.

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

Maladapted Daydreamer

Marg if you are just tying your own blindfold again 

Then I have never been able to see

Not past the optimistic maladapted daydreamer I’ve always tended to be 

            I’m from the outside. They were always going to whisper about me.

And if I’ve learned one thing from the campers

apples don’t fall far from trees

Cottage cheese and fried potatoes 

Greasy hair and muddy boots 

The campers line up for breakfast 

It’s a dark morning 

I’m in the back 

My feet are sinking like the roots

In his quickened pulse I feel a warning 

There’s Rosie, violet, and Billie brown 

They always sit in the corner 

And when I walk by they don’t make a sound

They don’t return to the cabin until the stars are crystal clear 

But are always first in line for the grits 

And when I serve them their coffee 

They always take it black 

I try for a shot of eye contact 

But they won’t give it back

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

It's the Little Changes

My house is a stranger to me

Someone gave her plastic surgery

But the windows the walls the doors the halls

They’re the same as they always were

The thing out of place is me.

I think I see what you mean

About the eyes in the woods

The ears alert, 

the words untrue,

I don’t like the way they speak of you:

Like you're some lovesick puppy who dogs at my brother’s heels

Like your feet will grow roots and damn you here

Like you'd wish all that and more upon yourself if given the chance

You don't have to be what they make of you

You have always been someone who wasn’t afraid to follow through

The first one to raise your hand to volunteer for extra work

The one sign up our names for the talent show

The only one to sit with me at lunch when I’d grown used to being alone

If only I could spin a tale to myself the way you would always do 

About the way life goes that’s optimistic, though not always true 

Or am i just tying my own blindfold again?

I always seem to come back to that

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

Once from the outside

Now I can't get out

Wrapped in green vines

Swept up in blue

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

The Things You See When You Stand

It’s funny how you don’t see the imprint of your afternoon nap until you stand up in the grass

I think leaving was a little was a little like that.

Not until I spun tales to my roommate of this little town,

Of this cave where you and I sat.

Swapping stories from our knee-high days. 

These were my takeaways.

Apparently:

Not all woods make you feel like you need to look over your shoulder

Not everyone hears the hot summer wind whisper their family name after them

Not everyone’s best friend goes mum unless they write them letters like they’re some long-dead 18th-century poet.

But fine. if you’re going to rip my words into summer snowflakes unless I wax poetic to you like we did when we thought that disliking boy bands made us more cultured than the other brats in the seventh grade  then I guess I can drop trow and write some bull just the same

In the end, I guess I should just be glad I finally see you write my name.

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

These Days

Blue blue blue these days without you 

Pink are my cheeks 

Long days working at the salon

It’s been too long 

Since I’ve heard your song 

We used to hide out in this hill-hidden cave 

I’d tell you how I’d bat my eyes at every Micheal, Tommy, Dave 

We’d giggle and it’d bounce off the walls 

Id worry my aunt 

Coming home after dark 

But your father would always be proud 

Seeing you in the forest 

He always said that’s where you belonged 

But the bats don’t come ‘round here anymore and neither do we 

There is moss on our rock 

And I lost our secret key 

We need to talk like the songbirds now.

Dove, I know you know how.

The predators are biting after our wings these days

So spread them high and fly up to the sky

Last month I went to the county fair

From the top of the Ferris wheelI looked over this town 

the schoolhouse 

the courthouse 

The camp 

And the woods

and there was this darkness 

a deep green velvet curtain 

And a feeling of something I never understood

An omen is all I can give for I fear I don’t know what is true 

And Blue Blue Blue

Are these days without you

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

Dear Este,

I think that maybe saying hello for a second time is harder than greeting a stranger. I went to visit your house the other day, I was hoping to get to see you again, hang out like we did before I left for college, you know? I’m surprised to see letters here again. We haven’t done that since that summer I was sick and couldn’t go to camp I’m pretty sure. I’m hoping that it wasn’t waiting here too long. Funny that me coming here to reminisce ended up with me finally hearing from you. Your aunt told me that you had already left for camp. I didn't know you'd decided to go this year. Are you liking being a counselor? I know you always wanted to, so I’m glad you got to go, but the town isn’t the same without you here.  Although, if I’m being honest, the town just doesn’t seem the same in general. Do you know what I mean? Tell Green I say hi to him as well and that mom said that he should remember to write her every once in a while. Also, is there any particular reason you’ve uhh written it like that? I’ve always loved your poetry but I was hoping for a life update you know, not an omen. I hope you're doing well tho, really.

-Marj

[thebonesofwhatwebelieved]

Marjorie,

I’m sorry dear that I’ve tried to rhyme

But the seasons have changed, it is the time

The summer heat, the rotting meat

The wolves have come out to play

So much has disintegrated while you were away.

I thought I could keep pace with them, belong in the pack

I just don’t seem to have that knack

i can't hide my round little tail, my button pink nose

They have quite big ears, they always know

So you should roll in the dirt, hide your scent

Figure out what I meant,

my dearest friend 

I fear the end

And what the woods and wolves may bring.