𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐘 ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ ✓

FIRES ASHORE

you were a writer;
a god of a thousand worlds,
a massacre made in seconds,
made to make your toes curl.

an inventor on one side,
and an observer on the other,
who would see black and white
but write in technicolour.

you could create a universe
and not a single thing you'd miss,
write oceans that rise in tide
then on land it sweeps and hits.

i marvelled at your being,
at the simplest words on paper;
you always knew what to say
but only said it later.

and i envied the girls
your wrote lovers for,
as if love came so easily
like shells washed ashore.

but even when you'd written
romances that reached the stars,
never could you bring them to life
and write this sad romance of ours.

maybe if i tried, i thought,
i could have what i've wanted,
and so i pressed my lips to yours
and forever became haunted.

everything fell and you rose up,
eyes wide in blank surprise,
"june, i don't like you like that,"
was enough to tear down my tries.

and i thought, i really believed,
that maybe you were just too coy,
too shy to be forward, too kind,
but now that all hopes are destroyed,

what did i see? i thought you saw it,
i'm confuddled over the glances
of when you'd look away when i turned
and my slightest of all chances.

i thought i had it right,
i recall my hand in yours,
held the gentlest i know,
but now they're slamming doors.

"but you kissed my cheek
and you held my hand,
you'd look at me in ways
that i thought i'd now understand,"

and so i came to think
what was never truly there,
the truth of you leading me astray
is now out in the air.

i reached for a hand that wasn't there,
only the dark and deep blue seas,
and, darling, you only reached in return
when you realised you'd lost me.

junie