come back to me

if you tell me a secret i'll give you forever in a tightly packed jar, pickled and nice, packed with the most appreciated memories we have stored between us. time stands still when you hold our jar of memories to your heart. when you start to dream of me. giving breath to the dying memory of us. how lovely would it be to stand back and see our future together floating beautifully in a glass, swirling around, misty-eyed and free without the cacophony of hypocrisy seeping out of its clear glass body. no one to tell us no anymore. no one to look through the looking glass and make snickering comments about how happy we could be together. no more echo of dying stars crying out to giants as they go flying into the night. no one to hear the screaming energy from within them silently falter as oblivion takes them in. the universe is unkind. instead, i'll take my time to unwind bible verses making the most of what God meant when he said, i make them in my own image, perfect. translation, my mind is trying hard to find the beauty that i caught one day in you, because you, are perfect. i'm trying hard to hold onto this butterfly net, exhausting muscles i didn't know i had yet in order to give breath to an idea that was born in my head the moment we met. i caught the tangled ball of our joyous days instead, a tangled web of string starting to unravel with the slightest provocation of the scissor. like tearing the stitching of a perfect sweater, like re-entering old wounds by cutting up something better. but what's better than a perfect scar on your already perfect body? heaven. i'm drifting. from afar i can see you dancing around in Elysium, bouncing around like a bubble going farther and farther away from here, floating toward an illusion that's just starting to appear. we stay apart. you are there and i'm somewhere over here so before we start to say things like, i'm sorry, i still love you, i'm sorry, i really want to spend my life with you, stand back and listen to the melodies of you and me that come and go, come and go, back and forth without much hesitation. they are moving with us like the tides of tomorrow, holding onto pieces of the past, dearly. longingly. but i can hear them so clearly. as if they are happening right here near me. as if i can touch them as much as i want to touch you. if you look close, you can see a million memories flash by out of the corner of my eyes where teardrops made scars down my cheeks. these track marks of memories where valleys of the good and the bad and the times we had sex in public, or held hands in heaven, or kissed at the alter of damnation project themselves on the inside of my eyelids.