Cracked and Whole

November 21, 2016

I don’t buy these nights, I spend them
like the world could end tomorrow.

When you’re sleeping next to me
I can find enough creativity,
I’m tangling worlds into magic
when even the dawn is asleep
but somehow my knots always end up
taking my wrists with them,
somehow that tells me I’m an integral part of the universe.

It’s been said I’m good at breaking
I’m not quite dysfunctional, just functional enough
I’m cracked surfaces, good enough
but I think you can better my good enough.

I sit on top of the world
but I don’t look at the stars
I look for ways not to fall.

Maybe that’s a harder way to live than
always looking for the next perfect redbrick,
nestled in the green with a bed of wildflowers.

I want a world unmade
so I can slip off the top and leave it untouched, uncrumbled, unbruised, unbroken.
I want a world remade
so I can slip off this precipice and leave you whole.

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