legs and fingers entwined
like vines on a lattice of pine,
except we cannot climb.
we are grounded. we are swine.
we are fated to become a toxic wine,
never to shine in the finesse of age,
for we are not so fine.
comparatively, we are brine.
we are perishable.
and only there, do we align.
I am a captive. I am a tiger in a cage -
secured by the chains of swift heartbeat.
Fierce and commanding,
yet I provide contrast,
for I am neither noble nor discerning.
But always: intrigue;
all stories end in ellipsis.
Always: both danger and in danger;
lest it be stolen away,
hold tightly onto breath.
Carry it close, and let it carry you home.
Giving up has never been so beautiful.
Cross out the broken bridges,
take the tacks off the wall.
No more taking turns,
only the makings of revolutions.
This is the most explosive of explosions,
the most fiery of ignitions,
the most monumental of momentums.
This is the sound of love renovated
and amity refurbished.
This is the fragrance of hope on fire.
lilacs and lemongrass.
This is what it is like to fly.
You are a taste that I don’t want to acquire,
a fledgling idea that I don’t want inspired.
Your stucco walls, I’d rather not break -
but that was never to be my decision to make.
For you are the diamond I left unpolished,
yet also the tower that I let demolish.
“I’m sorry.”
If you play the leading man,
I’ll gladly be your biggest fan -
with no such thing as line to cross,
no breath to leave us at a loss,
no step exists to step too far,
no kingdom built that needs for czar.
We’ll break no boundaries
for we have no bounds;
we’ll fire no bullets
for we have no rounds -
just one luminous spotlight,
just one transient fire:
that when you grace the stage,
know how much I admire.
What material are your bootstraps made of?
I am interested in the name of the manufacturer,
for I tumbled from a tall height when I found that mine have torn.
I am now in the hopes that I can upgrade my current pair
and embark upon the business of
picking myself back up
as quickly
as you.
I am the apple, and you are the orange.
“No comparison,” they say, but we all know that honestly, you’re better. Your personality has that acidic kick, and your laughter is much more valuable. That’s why orange juice is more expensive than apple juice, and wields a throne in that coveted refrigerator section. You’re sunshine. You’re liquid sunshine.
No comparison, because no one compares to you.
I’m just glad to be next to you in the same sentence, just an “and” and two spaces between us.
It is appropriate that you are always two spaces ahead of me, and that I will always be two spaces behind you, because I never could catch up to you.
And that’s okay.
I’m just glad to be next to you.
My condition has been diagnosed:
it’s now my turn as the ghost.
Buildings that were once unswayed
now forever marked
by my tirade.
My advice?
Be afraid.
“You know what that’s called? That’s called being human.”
— “I think… I’ve been too human recently.”
“I know. And that’s okay.”
(Source: gifs-from-movies)
