The Wind had already begun to stir
When your heads finally looked up
It’s as if I appeared out of thin air
The sounds of the emerald thunder
Elusive like your paper thin shoes.

Today I got the mail you had sent.
It was intertwined with the thin
paper of monotony and bills.
The letters all yelled in little voices,
shaded from travel but glowing.

I first looked for any order
but there was known. I
couldn't keep them locked anymore
so I began with the front.

My previous name, a previous life
brought to the surface in all capitals.

My memory reel began,
and so did my tears. We
had some great times, you and I,
before there was anyone else.

Mary said it best,
"one day you finally knew,
what you had to do, and begun..."
Every piece of past pieced to
zoom out, further out,
until it comes into focus.
The bigger picture for you to
cling on to. If the devil
is in the details, I have
lead my life under his red guidance.

When you kissed me this morning,
it all seemed to melt away with the rising sun.
I couldn't sleep last night
unless that too was a dream.
Tossing, tossing, turning to stare
into the eyes of oblivion.

Can't get it off my mind.
Not sure if I care or care because
our secrets are now shared. Do
they whisper across the room,
pointing with only their eyes and ill will.

"Some would say you're cooler because you don't."

But no one really says anything, to our faces.

Perhaps my inner monologue will subside with the setting sun.

Just the other day,
you laughed so hard your eyes
almost completely closed and the tone of
your laugh peaked into it's highest octave.

It was one of those uncontrolled laughs that happen when
you are being savagely tickled, the kind that
escapes from deep in your body, gasping for air,
for life.

But my hands were not on you, the laugh
happened anyway. I am Jack's overwhelming sigh of relief.
It was reassurance,
it was nice, that you still laugh that way,
that I can still make you laugh that way.

I can stop holding my breathe.

We've had our share of low points over the years, that is
not to say this roller coaster is not shared.
But we never compare tickets, we keep them close
So no one ever talks about the ride, not really.

And just as the mechanical beast spun around the corner,
at a point low enough to touch the ground,
we caught glance of another.

We could point at it and shame it for it's color,
it's chipped paint and leaning axel.

What a ridiculous looking roller coaster,
those poor people, we thought from our pedestal,
They look so unhappy.

I wanted to turn off today
because saving the world is exhausting.
It was the same exhaustion that plagued your face last night,
in between spoonfuls from your indistinguishable plastic red cup.

What a privilege to be able to save the world
instead of being the one who needs saving.

I think that's what drives me to leave,
the feeling that, no matter where I turn,
comfort means ignorance, willfully blind.

I don't know if it'll be any different anywhere else,
but what if he never explored the Giverny?
We would be lost without the Water Lillies.