Time to go

It’s not easy to go crazy, or to give in to death. They’re both only last resorts.

And in the silence I hear a sound
Of muffled footsteps walking around.
I look to find where it’s coming from
But before I know it the sound’s gone.

In the darkness I take each step,
One to the right and two to the left;
I walk to find the silent whispers,
But when I do, the voices disperse.

In the distance between your eyes I see
Everything more that you yearn to be.
And even in the silence of your empty heart
I hear a hollow beat and a pulse start.

In the words you hide between each breath
I listen carefully and measure their depth;
You’re smiling but you’re shaken inside…
You’ve got a lot to show, but more so to hide.

In the silence I listen to my thoughts,
Not a sound heard, not a person sought.
But I scream louder than I’ve done ever before;
Until I stop and I know it’s only but time to go.

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Over and Over

No intro, because I think I’ve said it all.

My words write, over and over, about the same person,
Giving myself all the excuses, giving myself reasons.
Your name in my mind is like a persistent stain
Stuck in there forever, stuck with a numbing pain.

I gave you my heart, wrapped and with a bow,
You took your time to play with it and then let go.
I’m chasing after a balloon that you already burst
Because when I stop, I know it’s going to hurt.

Your memories draw circles and borders all around me,
Stopping me here and stopping me from all I want to be..
I walk to the edge, turn around and walk right back.
It’s your words I miss, it’s your presence I lack.

I wonder if your thoughts are just where you are
Or do they travel to visit me to some place far.
If they come here I’ll serve them a tear or two;
That’s the only thing I’ll get that’s closest to you.

Your every story, every smile is etched in my memory
But if these words find you, please write back to me…
I long to hear your adventures and of the days I’ve missed,
Of all the drinks you’ve sipped and all the stars you’ve kissed

Fault Lines

We made promises to the thin sheet of air keeping your skin from touching mine and when our eyes met and I thought I could see right through them to where your thoughts were processed¬† and your mind worked with cogs and wheels to speak the words back to me, I thought I saw something. A fault line, a defective engine, something I could see but not make sense of. I wondered if I should call the rescue squad, but since they were busy having their grown up talks, you and I raced each other till we could no longer see the start point. Until we were sure to be lost, until there was no turning back to where we started from. When your fingers touched mine, I looked back at your eyes to try and solve the puzzle I hadn’t completed earlier. What I saw was layers of papers stuck between yourself and mine, high enough to cover you from me, but somehow your fingers brushed mine. Your mind was busy, and I liked watching it while trying to sort the pile of papers between us so we could end with twenty pages and two names. Twenty pages came with one name, and I read every word, every line, over and over again until I was sure I couldn’t see the things that weren’t there. I smiled for you, because you needed it even if not from me. I was hurt but hurting was not my kind of thing. It was alright, I promised myself.

The last time I saw you, the thin sheet of air had grown into a blanket that stood between us, thin enough to still see each other but thick enough to shield your mind from my eyes. I looked at your eyes, but I looked away, and that was the last time I saw those traces of broken cogs working to piece together a perfect mind. Now, we are exposed fault lines at the verge of gaping open to reveal volcanoes of lies and names that escaped our conversations.The fault lines; they’re all over. Between us, and in us.

Of course I’m alright.

You hid, I seeked.

There was someone who loved playing hide-and-seek with me. Memories of a distant past and a childhood game that still seem so vivid to me.

If I could turn back the hands of the clock to go back to a day we played hide-and-seek I wouldn’t walk into your hiding spot and tell you there was one rule to the game I forgot to mention. I wouldn’t say “and by the way, I caught you!” as if you can catch people like you catch colds. The criminals; they’re running away and you can’t catch them because they’re dwelling inside of us… not too far away from where our words stop making sense. When I look at you now, I wish I could say that none of the rules really matter now, but had I not told you when you crouched between a broken radio and a three legged table about it, the game would not have been a real one. But also, I wouldn’t have had to see your eyes scream at me, scaring me enough to run to comforting shoulders that buried my tears while you kept thrashing your cold looks at me. The boy who forgot the game would not have had to wonder why no one called out his name and find out later that the seeker was too busy crying over what she lost. It’s always easy to lose a game, it’s always harder to lose yourself… because you can always win the next game, but it takes an awfully long time to win back your thoughts. And when you thought it was fair to be unfair to me, that’s when my heart felt shattered. Did I really not matter enough to be part of the pact? Alone, with my palms shielding my eyes I waited for the call of “Ready, come and catch me!”. A call that never came. I wondered if you could have hidden too far for me to hear so I walked through every nook and corner that you could hide your laughs or breaths from but I knew I wasn’t all that bad not to notice that I was the only one playing the game anymore. I thought my heart would fall off my chest when I saw the sketches the tires had left behind in the mud so I spent all the seconds that took for you to come back to say I finally found you, but the next time we play, you couldn’t use vehicles or hide outside the borders. I found you every time. It was always the same story: you hide, I find you, and it was easy. I knew all your favorite hiding spots: under the couch, between the window and the wall, inside the empty water tank, and I could find you with my eyes closed. Years from then, I’m still looking to find where I lost myself, and being the seeker I was I still don’t know.