Storm

Something's wrong, we can all tell.
They say they scream they beg they plead.
And I'll open my eyes but they just let out rain.
And they'll open their ears but all they hear is thunder.
And I open my mouth but all I release is wind,
Carrying empty words on my breath
And full clouds before inhale, to fuel my storm.
Please, R, please, just tell us, just tell us.
And I'll breathe in the atmosphere,
from the ground where I've been pushed down.
And I'll open my mouth again.
And the leaves rustle, it whistles past their ears,
Placating them while I catch my breath.
The clouds roll in behind my eyes,
My mind commandeered by dark grey mixed with despair,
and I can no longer see the people in front of me,
But instead I see the people behind me, and their shadows.
The shadows that they once attached to me.
The shadows they sewed to my heels,
Then ripped them, leaving behind a small trace.
I know now that every time that shadow rips,
He gets shorter and shorter,
And because I give so much more of me,
I lose so much more of Her.
And something's wrong, R, we can all tell.
You never talk to me anymore,
You never smile at me in the halls anymore,
We never hang out anymore.
The harshest contradiction:
You're not alright, here's why I care:
You're not the same, and that affects me.
And your storm is narcissism, and ignorance,
And that storm hangs over my head.
And her storm is hesitation and a fear of confrontation.
And that's fine, but one day you'll realize,
We all have to stand up for ourselves.
There won't always be someone there to protect you.
And his storm is his mislead self-impression.
He swears he's an honest guy,
And he swears he never meant this,
And never again, and oh we'll be fine and,
You see, I feel like we just need to talk,
But I feel like we need to just shut up,
At least until you learn how to listen.
And my storm should be like yours,
My storm should be like everyone our age's:
My storm should be drama, and young adult worries.
But I was a young adult when those around me were
Chasing boys in the lunch line, and in the halls before
Going into town with the big groups,
For frapuccinos and gossip.
I was a tween when everyone around me
Was just worrying about fifth grade graduation.
I grew up in Elementary School.
And so it's Something's Wrong,
Something's Wrong,
and in middle school I breathe out my storm,
And one person withstands it,
And then he spreads it,
Changing my storm.
Until his words are the lightning, and I'm different forever.
And Something's Wrong.
Just tell me,
And I'll open my mouth to do just that,
But all that comes out is the storm.
Because revealing what's behind the hurricane,
Means welcoming in new fronts and new weather.
Withstand my winds until they stop.
Maybe then the calm can set in.

Becalm A Minute

I know there isn't a song written that describes this.
no matter how eloquent we are,
no matter how many millions of millions of combinations
of consonants and vowels and capitals and minuscules
and no matter how many sequences of
nouns of beautiful and magical possessions of Us
verbs deponent and forceful and forgiving
articles marrying ideas to phrases
adjectives invoking the raw love,
the unmasked pain, the unsweetened heartbreak
the bittersweet ache of love and the euphoria of the primary rush.
I know there isn't a way to describe this,
but if I only could...
I'd sing that song as relentlessly as the hopeless waves
roll into shore with the tides and the moon,
eager to escape but reaching for an unattainable horizon.
I'd inscribe those words on the roughest, most stubborn granite
on the most precipitous cliffs on the most treacherous terrain,
even if they would be eroded the way I know they will with time.
I would gift them to the air, but the air would give them to everyone,
and spread them like a seed in the wind, planting Us into
every single heart of every greedy soul,
and this uneven distribution will fail the lonely and empty sweethearts,
and so I'd rather spread this alone.
If I could, I would becalm every ship and every boat and I'd let it spill into the sea,
and watch the words spread out in hopes that,
in the absence of wind and without another distraction,
they might lay them all out in the guiding sun,
one by one, and all together try to string them all out
until they read the truths of our world.
If I could, I'd paint these words on the sky,
and use the clouds to dot all the i's and cross the t's.
And I'd write out our verses and our choruses
and our interludes and our bridge
in lower case letters, because those are your favorite,
and in cursive, because you loved how I'd write in script,
and in that slanted way you used to mock,
but I know you traced my love notes
and every happy birthday, and happy holidays,
and i love and i miss and i'd kiss and i'm sorry
and baby i know things are hard but i'm here waiting.
I'd write them on my skin if I could find them
the way I write song lyrics of other stories,
or quotes,
or trace hearts because you're on my mind.
If I could find the words, the phrases,
if I could find them in any corner of the world
on any mountain,
hell I'd climb Everest for you,
or I'd find the bottom of the ocean...
if the words were there, if the words were there,
if I knew the words were there, if they were ever there.
But they're not.

stop.

So your toes are wet and my chest is heavy,
because the salt water's up to my chin.
Because I can swim, and I can tread water,
but you found yourself in different waters.
Someday I'll join you, but first I'll find the words.
I'll find every rhyme I owe you, and every word I owe you,
and I'll write the poems I didn't get the chance to,
and when I find you I'll play for you this love song I'll have written of Us.
Undeniably of Us, Always of Us Two,
even when there's more than an ocean between us.

stop.

and it'll take years, baby wait for me,
and it'll take chances, baby watch over me,
it'll take my pride, babe, and my life, babe,
and I may not love you the same, babe,
but listen, listen, listen,
listen to the ocean because one day I'll pour Our words into it,
and listen to my heartbeat,
because one day it'll beat the same as yours, babe,
and listen to the wind, someday whispering not Our words,
but Our story,
after I've left, and after I've found you.
And I realize it now, I realize it now, and I realize it finally, now, right... now.
I cannot love another ocean the way I love the one I tread now.
So I'll let the now foreign waters go
but never forget and dream of reunion.
But for now, you're in my heart, swimming, treading,
and one day we can join again.

stop.

and...

begin.

I'll Find Our Words.
I'll find my world.
And I may find another love,
But I'm still doing this for you.
I'll find our words, a gift for you--
and I will swim with you again,
and the sun will cheer Us on,
and the current
will carry Us back
back home.