day 266

Your father told me you only really loved me because I am sweet. 

i.

We weren't alive to attend your parent's wedding,

but they told us we would've been the envy all of the punk rock angels left behind at their church reception. Your father baked the triple layered chocolate cake.

Your mother refused to eat any of it.

Said, she didn't want to grow sick of the sweetness so fast.

ii.

When you heard your parents in the next room planning out their divorce speech, you swore it sounded a lot like your suicide letter. You burned a mixed CD filled of Amy Winehouse and The Smiths and tried to play God. Proving that two completely different cries can still make other people wish they owned somebody else's shoulders. When you realized the other boys teased you for being a late bloomer, you hated yourself for letting them clip your wings before they even sprouted.

iii.

I learned that I wasn't ready for marriage when my 8th grade science teacher kept me off the honor roll. I kept trying to prove that my potential energy just grew in me and never became momentum. I refused to let my life turn into an amusement park of inertia. When your father helped you build a volcano out of baking soda, my father fed my fear of flying from quick changes.

I kissed a girl for the first time that year. I asked her to sing me to sleep. Her voice was the cry of an ancestry of dead addicts. Her tongue tasted like the stab of sea glass and syringe. She was quick sand. And I still hate myself for weighing 90% heavy heart.

iv.

We met at a college basement punk show. Our bodies hovered over each other, but we never touched. You call this the first time we made love. You told me I had glass eyes and I knew you wanted to save me. We watched the drummer break his drumsticks until he had nothing but soft palm. The guitarist stopped playing mid chord. The vocalist hung himself along the noose of his microphone.

The bassist kept playing.

You looked me straight in the eyes.

Told me,

this is why I want to die. You are only heard when the screaming finally disappears.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want you to grow sick of my sweetness so fast.

I just smiled. And helped you unclip your wings.