"I hope life without a chaperone is what you thought it'd be. I hope your brother's El Camino runs forever. I hope the world sees the person that you always were to me. And may all your favorite bands stay together." ~Dawes
I know we always spoke in chords and riffs
I know you never cared as much, as me, about lyrics
But we had a stillness about us, they held hands and sat by song
Sycamore of night to our backs,
We could see through every star, every cry, every reflection of humanity in the sky
This kaleidoscope of night.
We felt touched to witness this together.
We felt terrified by the cries and unspeakables we weathered.
The world is not this beautiful, fun place by twilight.
It's not this romantic moon, with pink and orange
Highlights.
That's only sometimes.
For the most part, the way our hearts tilted, it's not what we saw.
What we witnessed was ugly and art, and glossy and raw.
And horrifying.
It would hurt to touch.
The things you could only speak of in metaphors and quick,
silent glances.
Aghast that we got second chances, while others never had a one.
Not ONE tiny chance.
Our gratitude would huddle close, I'd speak words on paper,
You would draw.
We'd let them dance.
I don't know why my friend.
I don't have a clue.
The sky was just cloudy,
We were born blue, and stuck together.
Glue.
I know you're gone. But I forget.
I may have been the one who left.
Regardless, this is for the US.
Maybe for the "you", the part, where my heart,
cries no regret.
This is for the you that once drove me to the hospital
This is for the you that saw me, when no living thing wanted to, or would.
You remember the blue and clouds, the depth and the shading
I remember nothing except the smell and coming to,
Lying on a floor of wood.
That and vegetarian dumplings, folded in green.
This is for the you that teaches like I do
Oh how we'd change this world if we could.
We certainly wanted to....
Our babies still call me every now and then;
So we definitely did some things we never thought we could do.
They were eternal. They were good. They will be our legacy,
if you would.
Regardless, we get to say we tried.
We get to lay down one day, look up and whisper, "I tried."
and then eternally close our eyes.
Like closing lips, earth and sky.
Talking testaments to sky, but never explaining why.
Eternally shushed.
I explain too much anyway.
But the US part was never a point of trying.
No one really gets that we just were,
long before life ever entered.
It just was and always will be,
long after the passing.
When the world will stop interrupting us so we can play our vinyl records.
My gait, walking away, was the only part
that came unnaturally.
Willing my already useless legs to go forward,
trying, when I felt a part of me was dying...
Unnatural.
Being your friend was the easiest thing I ever did.
Until it wasn't.
The will it took to walk away, will never ever be able to be explained.
Only our maker will know why it had to go that way.
Maybe it was just gravity.
I disappeared into the elevator,
Bottom Level pushed by my maker.
Praying you would take her the way love took me, and that you'd have a home,
a family.
It was hard in a "mourning way"
There's a place in me, no one will ever resuscitate.
I could amputate it?
But then we'd really be gone.
I am meant to me maimed, changed
That was His plan all along.
I am changed.
You are welcome.
But we aren't lost kids anymore, and let's face it,
my gender by default
Makes the assumption I'm a whore.
I am not.
I was loyal.
Just happen to be a girl.
I let go of our Sycamore and an innocence,
and I try my hardest not to make assumptions anymore.
That's what free will is for, hugging whores and listening
to their tragedies.
It was time and body well spent.
I leave changed
An indelible dent in that Sycamore.
Grooves that can't be undone by us, or anyone.
My spine, indelibly changed
Decrepit.
By the huge and hollow tree,
That supported us, growing up
Just because
It was lonely.
We three.
But love lets go, as the sycamores grow.
Hollow.
And I have the greatest love a person could ever know.
I could let go of a friend so that he gets to know it too.
It's fair. It's life. It's a song, played on your birthday, sung just to you.
Happy birthday old friend.
May all your favorite bands stay together.
