Oh, but the more I wrote about you
the easier it got, mouthfuls of poems
filled up like my anxiety flowing out.
I hope you catch the crown fire
in your mouth because before it
was just these avalanches of pearls
spilling out like shooting marbles.
There goes the cathedral respect
and one more ice berg sized problem.
Catch me sitting where the sun fills
picking clovers instead of fights
and growing up slow by avoiding life.
I want a real conversation
voice cracks and all,
no fountain of apologies
or pure alcohol consumed
for your guilty soliloquies.
I buried my face in flowers
preparing for the worst
you whispered closely.
only you can make sadness a curse.
I have islands under my eyes and
dreamt away entire lifetimes, but
you broke more promises than rules
I broke as a kid, falling in and out of existence,
the inertia of your heart spins me in a vicious whirlwind.