The Admiral One

and i look back on my life,
so disappointing,
that i can’t count how many times i was in love.

& i look to the future,
the work of irony wrapped around my arm,
i feel heaven, or what is an impostor, check my heart out and run away.

I changed so much,
i can’t tell who i am anymore, my confidence is dying and still living,
my heart,,,, god how it hurts again.

My arm burns,
the word IRONY tipped of by steel,
tends to be the best thing that i
can feel, the best thing that my heart
wants to grace my features.

That and tears to burn my eyes.

wrapped in a crystal clear shadow,
steeped in my blood,
I couldn’t understand it anymore.

Am I not the one you said you love,
am I not the one who gave you sanity,
am I not the one who would stay with you forever?

I made a mistake,
in being a mistake that lived
to see his horror filled eyes.

To watch him as he slept
away his youth, with people who
didn’t really care about him because all they did
was give him attention.

I can only talk to him,
a non-formal way of showing him he has
someone to come home to, someone
who will always wait with open arms.

He knows this, and he abuses
this fact with smiles and glances,
promised that can never be true,
with eyes that stream down when reality rears it’s ugly head.

I am a god,
who has met his end in the worst way possible,
I found love, and yet they have seen to it to
take it away from me right when I was getting comfortable,
right when I knew what it was I wanted in life,
this is my punishment for all that I have done.

im a butterfly,
flying in a storm,
the colurful rain following all around me
painting the ground colours i’ve never dreamed existed.

the sky is gray,
the ground is beautiful,
but poisonous.

the colours, they
were toxic to,
everything.

they harmed everyone,
on the rock bottom shore,
the painted them in blue and greens and silver,
the harmonized them until they were all the same,
the killed them all until they were alone.

i’m not going down there,
the sky is where i belong,
the colourless horizon until the sun goes down.

i’ll dream of being there,
where i can spread my wings and fly
helplessly and purely,
the sky is my home, the ground is my pain, the space is my fantasy

I fell in love with a girl
who had a tattoo
across her chest.

She said it hid her “most damaging secrets from the world”
I love her anyways.

I never saw what that tattoo said, I never cared.
Out of fear, or indifference,
I never asked.

Once in a while she would say to me,
“I’ve never slept a full night before,”
“I think with you… I can.”

I let her sleep in my arms,
watching as her breathe became slower and slower,
watching as the stars and the moon cried the snow around me.

She and I slept.

I awoke in the morning,
to see if she was asleep.
She was.

For years I tried to wake her,
tried to get her off the ground,
but finally I gave up.

I sat on the ground,
the sky was crying again,
and I looked up towards the sky and fell into it.

I fell into the star’s oceans,
surrounded by the night sky,
and the day sky all at once.

I never asked her to return me,
I know that I would not want to,
she is my sea, I am her boat.

She was an angle of hid her heart for me to find.

the way to the heart,
will it be easy
to assume that there is no road,
to assume that the path has been worn down to nothing,

walked by so many others
who felt the need to litter it with
lies about how they truly are, how they never will, they they don’t care,
how they are honest…

maybe it will be easy to think,
that you’re already there,
and someone else is performing in the center stage.

your is a bed of nails
you lie on it so content
it makes me shudder

your secrets are hidden,
obvious, to the naked eye
what do you say on top that pile of rags?

did you bade me over,
make some story of how your lost,
getting better?

i see it now,
that desire in your eyes,
hurting and wanting to hurt.

if it’ll make you feel better,
i’ll cast myself naked in front of your blind eyes,
blind enough to see the souls and secrets of those who hurt

I’ve had this innate urge to cry,
watching the snow flakes fall,
down past my window
maybe making it to the ground
just to be swept away by the wind.

It feels like no time has gone by,
in some cases,
but years have gone by for another.

The year is over, I’m older again.
I’ve had lessons taught to me, and revised others to match.
I can’t complain that I miss someone…I’ve never had them to begin with.

Those tears that will not fall, happy or sad, represent something to me.
I’m washing away all the sorrow, all the pain, all the mistakes that I’ve made in the past year.
Letting someone, or something else come to take it’s place.

I’m happy.
Could I have said that last year? Could I have meant it?

People say that you never truly know who you are.
Some people say you never know who you are until you’re an adult.
I’d bed to differ… I don’t know me completely, I’m still finding stuff out and uncovering other, but I’ve come pretty close to knowing what I am and how I am.

And I’m all right with that.

I’ve got no regrets.

is the heart that you hid
still beating?
i find it has a place, a home in a mask

a place where it can still see,
but never learns to breathe…
it needs not to

those questions that it will ask,
that time it spends thinking,
will make it a demon, an outsider, an alien
to all that already been established

maybe someday those questions will become the antidote
that our home desperately needs…
maybe one day those questions will be used as a bridge

to put that heart back where it belongs
inside the shoestring box

will i be happy in that station
looking down on you,
on everyone

it used to be so easy,
commenting without meaning
i never had to try

i’ll watch you make your mistakes
acting like its the last day of summer,
it never used to be so cold

i’ll sit there and listen to the music
in the sky, from below
to the music in the stars, all around
to the music from the heavens,
above and within~

would there be life
on that star i call sanctuary?

that antihero place where
worship is a thing of torture

self reliant on the world at hand
at hand, and at large
to make mistakes