once.

we used to talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up.
we were astronauts, or artists.
tourists or thieves.
but now that we've gotten there,
i feel like nothing is the way that we dreamed.

our hands,
they have grown.
bigger, stiffer, colder.
they don't seem to fit like they used to.
the don't seem like they could form the future out of clay.

our eyes have now looked at the world
and seen something less magical
less perfect.
more real.
and now, when i see your face, and i look into your eyes
i know that they too are tainted.

i know that you are still the boy that i once loved.
and i know that underneath the calluses you still have those perfect sweet hands.
but i can't help but force my eyes closed
and try to remember everything that we had promised the world would be.

i'm fine.

you can't ask me to talk
can't need my permission or blessing
you can't decide to care now.
you can't be concerned with my welfare.
can't go back to how things were before
because you made your decision.
you picked

because i begged you not to ask
begged you to let me keep myself locked up
begged you to leave good enough alone.

but you picked and proded
and tweezed away at what i had
pulling apart the pieces of myself that i kept safe

that's not fair.
you dont get to bargain now
you dont get to know how i feel
not any more.

lock meets key

i have a padlock
that keeps my heart chained up and safe
hidden away from the rest of the world.
held in with iron clad links
that wont let me down.
a kind of security that doesn't need to rely on people
because people make mistakes.
people forget to look where they step.
and sometimes, on accident, they stumble
and manage to maim you on the way down.
they don't mean it.
they don't intentionally tear you up
but regardless of intent, cuts and bruises come along
and little pin pricks sneak in
into places that you thought were protected.

warmth

let's fly to alaska
so i have an excuse to always stay close to your side
because for some reason you seem give more warmth than any fire or coat.
i always thought that brown eyes were boring,
but there is something now that i am drawn to
like they are slowly melting away my edges.
i can see that little speck that always appears to be plotting

when we hold hands, i can feel your thumb move over my knuckles ever so slightly,
carefully tracing.
trying either to find each and every crease and ridge
or stay below the sensory radar of everything else around me.
and when i try to annoy you and leave my legs hanging on your lap,
and you fiddle with my laces,
it seems as if our little back seat has dropped off from the rest of the car
and we are somewhere far away, connected by strings of cotton and polyester, weaving together to tie us in.

just you and me,
we can eat vanilla ice cream
and laze in the hot hot sun of the winter wonderland.