i miss You

because the what comes after
is still more alluring
than the what is.

it isn't about a dream
or a crayoned fantasy
on construction paper.

it is a forgotten memory,
rustling like a fever
in the deep part of my bones

that i can't reach to scratch.
when i think of You
i think of the best times--

the ones that make all of this
such a beautiful wasteland,
a live wire of unbridled heartbeat.

remembering us then is different
than what they call faith,
because faith is believing

in that which cannot be proven.
i used to wake up in Your house
and eat breakfast in Your kitchen.

i've followed You to the secret place
and fallen asleep to the sound
of Your pen on the sky.

i will endure this summer camp of sorts
until the fever shatters my bones
like a prisoner making his escape.

then we will stay up
all night like we used to,
screaming and dancing,
laughing and sighing.

a song.

not poetry, but close enough. a song i wrote tonight...it sounds like a mix between jump, little children's "cathedrals," switchfoot's "let your love be strong," and the country of egypt in general...untitled.

if we existed...
if we existed...
if we could live above this life
i know i'd never cry
cause we'd never fight.

you make promises...
you make promises...
that only Superman could keep.
so although you mean well
i know they're always empty.

i remember in the beginning
we were selfless and so forgiving.
even time stopped to let us soar.
but what gets me down
more than the gravity,
is that we're perfect...
is that we're perfect...
but only circumstantially.

behind the sunrises...
behind the silences...
behind the endless day to day,
we aren't tired. we aren't worn out.
we're awake.

it's all so delicate...
it's all so delicate...
this balance we try to maintain.
but this is bigger than anything we could save.
we're such children in its face.

i remember in the beginning
we were selfless and so forgiving.
even time stopped to let us soar.
but what gets me down
more than the gravity,
is that we're perfect...
is that we're perfect...
but only circumstantially.

if we existed...
if we existed...
if we could live above this life.
i could wake up and be yours in the morning,
like i'm yours tonight.

i remember in the beginning
we were loving more than we were thinking
and reality was easily misplaced.
but what gets me down
more than the gravity,
is that you loved me
and we were perfect
but only circumstantially.