sandpaper

I was up until 4 am last night, looking online for tickets

I wanna take a train somewhere

I want to ride the blue bellied underside of an inexperienced wave and find myself on a lonely island that maintained it's virginity.  

It seems like all the great adventures were had by people who had dreams bigger than they were allowed to

People who were ambitious like dying embers, burning hotter when the pretty dancing flames died out and audiences stopped being amazing

I wanna burn hot blue like a full mooned midnight with stars hanging like thousand year old miracles for millions of miles around me lining my heartbeats like an orchestra, filling a stadium with heart wrenching melodies played for an audience of one

Or tearing down the house in a small room where orphans can feel at home.  

And home. . . used like to many "i love you's" empty like vacant ruins, never fully like hugs made by arms that touch your insides

No, home. . . 

Buried deep down in rooted memories untouchable like an ancient thought or a passed on lover, just out of reach but my soul is still prickled by the pain of it

Caged by Polaroid memories and empty beer bottled laughs, and wrap around porches, and tire swings, midnight talks, rainy day dreams, and tea not quite hot enough to burn your tongue but just hot enough to make you sigh

Home, like whispers from under bed sheets and good morning smiles

I loved you like October, like autumn, like the night before our last together moment

I loved you like a gospel passed around the world but holy like a first breath, a first dance, and last goodbye

I loved you like a rainstorm, like an ocean like a sunrise, 

And I held your heart in my hand like an offering

And I loved it, even the broken parts

Even the parts that you couldn’t love yourself

My heart wasn’t kept safe behind my chest,  it was on your shoulder

Exposed and unguarded. . . . And you let it stay there

Even though it was heavy, and weighed you down

You were always a place I could put it 

The stars are out tonight, and I am thankful that some things are the way they should be, that some parts of the universe aren't full of surprises. 

So tonight, I'm hopping on a bus, just to feel like i'm going somewhere, and I'm going to remember the good parts. 

I remember whispering in your ear wondering if you could love me if you knew my darkness. I remember learning that you could.  I remember looking up the sky and laughing at all the funny faces the stars made at us.  I remember thinking you'd be so much more than a memory. 

I meant to write a love poem. . . it ended up being just another goodbye sonnet sung with an off key melody tossed in a pile, full of dozens of my attempts at moving on.  I see the moon out tonight, so as promised, I said a prayer, whispered goodnight, from however many miles away, and I'll fall sleep with you on my heart like you were born there. Maybe I'll lose some of the pain in my tears, and tomorrow, it won't hurt so bad.  

I wished my hands were made of sand paper, so the things that mattered didn't keep slipping through.