everything good returns to the sea, they say
(the wind carries your voice down the stream)
where horses paw the sand
(sit on the bench on the dock, please.)
their seafoam manes flowing with the moon
(did you like your childhood?)
your friends are all there
(do you believe in Him. are you lutheran, yet?)
the sand bites their ankles
(don't scream at the lake- it doesn't like that.)
and you sit on the grass-
(have you kissed a boy yet?)
because the sea threatens you
(does your chest ache with too much weight?)
and the horses call your name
(have you started wearing your clothes?)
the same way the kids who tried murder did
(are you home?)
the music calls your name like a soft wine
(did you make it out okay?)
when in doubt, follow the sounds of home
(how are you doing?)
-icarus
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
