Rewind

Day 13, but actually 12.
love to a certain boy
with a certain eulogy that
certainly/accidently
inspired this one

My first
is happening,
now.

Thick throated,
dry eyed,
barely..
almost.

The first time
I will ever proclaim
death by choice,
is
now.

And it
probably wont last
i
have pegged
living poems
on the foreheads of
those six feet under,
dirt from
daily prayers
And now I am
writing a eulogy
for a boy
that is still living
me and the world
tend to disagree that way

A eulogy
for a not so dead
possibly
dying
dying to me here today
while I let the dead live

a eulogy
for a boy living
in places and whereabouts
in livelihoods
that wont let him allow me
to learn how much of that is true
me and the world
tend to disagree that way

Plainly,
to you
I will
say
for myself
that
it
sits..
like this:

Fear makes you a lock box
Self righteous love makes me a lock smith of sorts
But fear makes locks
hard to pick
Distance makes some of this irrelevant
and
Love
self-righteous and all
makes for a big heart
that doesn’t know how to hurt
even for its own causes
So
Fear makes all of this
convenient

(…………….)
they say that
poets sometimes
overreact about
things
or
maybe we
see the world some type of way.
I was looking to fall with someone
I fell on my face
in a puddle
the reflection
was beautiful
someone came to pick me up
and it wasn’t you
by this time
I didnt want it to be
At this point I am accepting you
as a dwindling dream
a foreshadow
or
a flashback
at this point I don’t know
and that has never seemed to matter
as much as it does now
as much as I am trying to get you not to..
Honesty
isn’t pushing me through many places at this point
cuz
the fact is Im stuck
I have been an idealist for so long
I have never met anyone as willing
to keep themselves from
being heartbroken by the love life has to offer
this is not our time
not cuz its not
because
you have decided that it shall be
such
I wonder what would have happened
if I had never spoke my mind or situation
how different things would be
maybe
it would be easier to demonize you
a boy
with his own eulogy
I don’t kill living things
but this has become a matter of
self survival
I don’t know
how to fall in love
with Things
from
other
realities
the right
way
without falling out of this one

I’m sorry

The knot in my throat
is telling me
to take a crack at my
first time of killing anything
and this is only the beginning
they say death comes in threes.
I’m bringing
a partner with me…………….