piece of mind

the rose that grew from concrete

"sometimes i have wanted
to throw you off
like a heavy coat.
sometimes i have said
you would not let me
breathe or move.
but now that i am free
to choose light clothes
or none at all
i feel the cold
and all the time i think
how warm it used to be."

                                         ~coat; vicki feaver

__________
june 15, 2020

you're gone on vacation and i think perhaps this break is good for us.

a sentence i never thought would leave my mouth in total honesty, but you never cease to surprise me.

-george by himself for a while

_________
june 18, 2020

you've been sending me constant update pictures and videos.

sometimes it's your sunburnt face all scrunched up under the uv rays.

sometimes your soaking wet body emerging from the ocean.

once it was a burger you'd gotten for lunch then dropped face down into the sand.

once it was that same burger being eaten by a flock of seagulls that you shrieked at.

twice it's been you in some random beach shop trying on heaps of chintzy sunglasses, or holding up idiotic souvenirs.

every day it's been seashells you find on the beach and think are cool looking.

a few times it's been your cheesy grins blurbing hello to me underwater in barely audible clouds of chlorine bubbles.

and once it was you apologizing and saying you miss me.

-george whose favorite binge recently has been your "daily vlogs"

__________
june 20, 2020

i guess we're just going to move on and pretend nothing happened between us.

with our newfound distance, so too went the choppy waters between us.

funny, because you're actually at the beach.

we glossed over our issues in a fine-finish glossy pottery varnish. but the thing about glazes like that-

they're only meant to make the design appear nicer. in reality, they lock everything below into crystallizing place, cementing it there in hopes it'll stay together longer. but those fragile projects often still break apart with time, whether it be from an instantaneous drop, or the mere collection of dust that eventually bares too much weight.

regardless, the shattering will come.

that's something you taught me when you were showing off your knowledge of the art world.

you may have unknowingly predicted the future with that one.

-george reflecting on our art lessons

_________
june 23, 2020

apparently your vacation meant to be a paradise is actually hell.

your parents haven't stopped arguing and you've been forced to share a bed with your sister who snatches your blankets at night.

sorry your trip is terrible, but it's not much better here.

-george whose daily routine is boring without you