He lived alone
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with his books and his records and his telescope
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with all the doors locked
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days piled upon each other one by tedious one
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until the pressure finally created a diamond like thought
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and he was instantly sad
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Ive read every book,
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Ive heard every song,
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and Ive seen every star from the safety of my bedroom.
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and i am empty.
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in defeat he slumped forward with his eyes still pressed against the telescope
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just then his lungs began to expand,
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he blinked rapidly,
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alternating his eyes between squinting
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and making his eyes as wide as saucers
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he cried out, "of course"
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with all the hours spent looking up
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it never crossed his mind to veer straight ahead.
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He spent days upon days taking it all in
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he say children grow to become men
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and men grow to become fools.
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he saw hope, beauty, war, strength, weakness, chaos, stillness
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he watched until he could recite each scene from memory,
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eventually he wrote his own books about what he saw
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and he made his own songs about what he thought he had heard
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until almost he himself believed what he was creating to be true
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until lie upon lie piled on top of itself
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until the pressure finally created a pearl-like thought
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he spoke to the world,
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Ive seen all of your lives
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and Ive heard all of your conversations,
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and i am hungry.
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In frustration,
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he dropped to his knees
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and began to bang his head against the old wooden door
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"of course" he cried out
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and without hesitation
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ha stood up,
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put on his coat and hat, and turned the knob.
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but before hid first step even hit the ground
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he was faced with the most unexpected of emotions
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one that he could only figure to be
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what his favorite books and records refer to as love.
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"where are you going?" she asked him
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"i don't know"
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"me too" she smiled
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ill take you there, she extended her tiny hand
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and swept him away with her.
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They walked until their feet bled
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during their journey she told him all the places she had been
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and all the people she had met along the way.
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a new emotion began to unfold inside of him
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one he thought he had overheard in a conversation looking through his telescope
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it was the word fear
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why would she choose me? he thought.
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i know so little
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not wanting to lose her interest,
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he began telling her stories he thought she might be impressed by
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but all they did was make her question his strength and ability to battle the enemies
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that she knew would surely jump out at them one day
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but she still kept her faith in him and they continued walking
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what amazing things they saw
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they danced in dark caves,
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warmed their faces by the brightest of fires,
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and played with brilliant children in the blue Spanish sea
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but even amidst all that gorgeousness,
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their hands began to slip.
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first from palms, then to fingertips, then to nothingness.
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they stood still,
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she faced south, and he faced west.
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he called out to her,
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I'm leaving now, and i blame you for the state we're in
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and through all of our adventures Ive done nothing wrong
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and though you've taught me how to breathe,
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I'm taking my new voice and leaving you hear with nothing.
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She looked back and cried out to him,
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we drew a map together that you promised you would follow with me.
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i too am scared,
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especially after you stole my strength and made it your own.
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but i am still reaching for your hand,
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knowing it will fit more perfectly than ever
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if you will only reach back to me.
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but he didn't reach back, he was vain and confused.
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he tried to make a new map, but he didn't know where to put the "X" anymore.
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so he walked in circles,
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he lost his rhythm,
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he froze by the fire,
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and he drowned in the sea,
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he made himself what he had feared the most,
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incomplete.
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and even though the decision was his, and his alone,
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he blamed her for that too.
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but the whole time she followed him
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looking for fallen twigs and fresh footprints to see where he was going
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but all he left in his path were messages written in the dirt with a broken stick
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scrawled lies of anger and shifted blame,
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| until |
