I need to visit all of you!
I need to gather us all up
and get in a hippie van and turn on some music
and have someone be the designated notebook writing down all our spouts of poetry
because holy Moses
look at that tree or that bush
or listen to her laugh
write this down
No, I’m driving and I need a beach for us all to laugh and play and bury each other and hug regardless of sex and just enjoy and bask
because were human and flawed and that wave is going to knock you over, you dork
but let’s swim in it, oh, let’s run straight into it
and tell stories of how we met around a campfire and - were is that notebook?
- and let’s wrap each other in towels and blankets; who brought the guitar?
Do you see it? Can you feel that?
I’ve known all of you for thousands of years
squished into seconds
And I want to be close to you.
You say yes, yes, yes!
And it feels like burning the candle at both ends but
the candle is so long it takes up
all of eternity,
all of then and now and forever
so we never have to fear the night,
and it feels like when everyone you’ve ever loved is in a room all together
and you’ve never felt so safe and warm around a crackling fire on a beach at night, and there’s champagne flutes full of sparkling cider and everything tastes like sugar grapes and cake batter never baked just spooned out of a giant bowl into our mouths on a sleepover night
sneaking out of the window and racing down a lamp lit street to the park to swing,
laughter echoing off the kickball courts and stars.
Then my heart leaps and nods in agreement because we’re doing it again - we are one split apart and melding into one again,
feeling the same things,
seeing the same songs playing in real life with bodies and spirits attached,
wandering the earth like notes on the staff.
And I need you to put this poem
on one of those pictures you take that just pulls the feelings right out of my spirit and slaps them down on a piece of paper in a lavender - no, sea foam green room
in my head and something of you is in there with me
and we stare at the wall while I write it down on a piece of paper - no, a type writer
and then it appears in beautiful script on the wall
and we look at it and we look at each other and you’re wearing a deep purple shirt
and I want to say how did we get here to this place in my mind palace?
And then I spit up a poem hours later
in the dead of night
teaming with words
and my thumbs fly
to capture the things my mind has seen
and I celebrate while everyone else sleeps and wait for morning for you all to see because where do these ties come from twisting around me and I need to pull us all so close,
so close.
We need to be physically present;
I can’t just live with you people as voices in my head forever.
One day, I’m going to touch you and hold your hand and give you a hug and race you to that ice cream truck with sunglasses on our faces slipping down our noses as we laugh and giggle and say to each other,
‘It is so hot outside,’
and what we really mean is,
‘if I said I love you as many times as I think it, it would be weird according to society,
but I think you would understand, wouldn’t you?’
And then we’ll walk to the beach.

Never Been Strangers

-m.g. and lore-and-lies

(via megshezzastardis)