socially awkward.

(130)

clavicola:

When you peeled back my heart like a clementine
you found that there were enough seeds to grow an orchard

but like the rest you spit them out
and smiled at me without any teeth.  

I dreamt you had the hands of my last love, and
when I woke, I was treading water.

Consume the world or let the world consume you,
but you’ll never find an in-between, not when you’re not here
with me.  

This is the reason, though I never said, that I was always so sad: 

Nobody notices the seasons between seasons, no one sees
how the moon swings across the sky each night.

It’s always A to B, this to that, always a rush to get to another place
where we don’t belong, instead of stopping one more time to pick a daffodil
off the side of the road.

You changed from reds to orange to a bare-boned winter
all while I held your hand in my own
but I said nothing, only watched as you looked at yourself
and saw just the same pale shade of
you.  

There are those who wade through seas while other down them
on the rocks.

The last rain caught me with my back against the pavement.
Laying there with my mouth agape, a cut on my thigh from hypocrisy,
I couldn’t tell if I was bleeding into the sky
or if the sky was bleeding into me,

couldn’t tell  if it was I who consumed the world
or if it was the world that consumed me.