Leave things better than you found them.

That's the only way
to make the Eden manifest
we've too long denied
ourselves and each other.

I've never known how to properly end a conversation with you, whether it be a phone call or a kiss good bye. Fingers fumble and awkward "I love you"'s and "good bye"'s drunkenly find their way out of my sober mouth. I never know how to say "fare well".

My theory is that I never want to say good bye in the first place. I'd rather be with you. Though you might be busy talking to someone else or in another room, I want to always be close to you. Saying "good bye" doesn't feel good at all. It feels like I'm going far away and I'm leaving a piece of me behind. I know I might sound clingy and suffocating, but I have adapted a terrible habit of needing someone around to keep me sane. I use to love to be alone, but now I go crazy with thoughts stampeding through my head. I hate to say good bye.

But I love to say "hello". Our "hello"'s are the best. We meet with kisses and hugs and sometimes chocolates. We meet with wide grins and bright eyes that catch the light just right at six in the evening. Our "hello"'s are heart warming and relieving.

The "hello"'s almost make the "good bye"'s worth it.

Almost.

Some kids lit fireworks on the beach
the noise crackled against the houses
sitting quietly on the dune.

The white flashes looked like stars
that burnt out too early,
sorta like you and me

A blind man asked me
what i was looking for
sobbing on the kitchen floor
I blinked and saw oblivion

A deaf man played
the sweetest music I’ve heard
the notes feathered and frayed
it was more than I could ask for

A mute woman spoke
of a black sort of peace
that’s louder than words
and softer than fleece

Men have feared much greater things
of colossal serpents with devils wings
but I only fear the greater good
and if you only knew, you would

You can't give love
only to take it back
but I swallow words
like pills these days

and the side affects
have no warning label
and overdosing is
too often fatal

“There’s a museum of *** around the corner”
“A what?”
“A museum of ***.”

A lady hums a melody on the bus to Queens, I lean in and listen to her quietly, but don’t say a word.

Crowds choke avenues as protestors call out the police. The police surround them. The irony of being protected by the same force that destroys is not lost.

Rain puddles on the black cement, I notice how soft the yellow water is in contrast with the harsh taxis.

A stray glove sits lonely on the subway stairs, useless without its other half.

“This entire factory used to be covered in graffiti, the city keeps painting over the art”

A snotty waiter recommends watery wine that costs an arm and a leg, he snorts when I don’t tip.

At a flea market a lady assures me this moonstone will “cleanse me,” I lost it rushing off to midtown.

The lights twinkle like flecks of gold against black stone and I realize night is never night here.

My guy tells me he doesn’t like me in the city, I tell him I’ve never liked myself anyways.

I was never meant to hear
you say
"Nothing lasts forever"
It was never for me
It was yours all along
It was the last bit of bait
you were throwing
to reel your drifting sanity
back into your veins,
Wasn't it?
****
I don't want to lose you