Baggage Claim

My suitcase is packed. It is full of clothes, outfits of who I hope to be while I am away. A costume wardrobe is probably a better choice of words to describe what I will check when I board the plane.

Hopefully I remember to get back into character when I get home.

Her

There is always another Her. So many of them, crawling from the light fixtures, the ceilings, your gym bag, taking you away and turning you into a monster I do not recognize. The Hers bring you to their thorny worlds, dragging you into their wounded lives. Trying to fix them, to shear them and release the roses beneath, you become trapped. Any move makes you bleed.
I try and clear you out, bring you back to the sunlight. I get pricked, and my blood trickles down onto your face. You get mad at me for blurring your vision of the perfect woman you have created in your mind.

My skin scrapes on the way back out.

Birds' nest

And I wish we could live far away, up in a treehouse away from everything.

We could forget everything we know; we would only need blankets, a garden, water and each other.

Other than the difficulties of plumbing and the technicalities of constructing a windowsill garden for food, I don't see how we couldn't survive.

Even if both faltered, it wouldn't matter. All I really need is you anyways.

Spare

You and I lie on the grass, surrounded by your new friends. I am a visitor, an outsider in your family. You talk, tell jokes I don't know. I hollowly laugh, pretending to belong, to understand, to be accepted. I am not despised or ignored, but I am not wanted. I am like a snowstorm in July: an unpleasant memory of what once was.

-I loved You. I love you. I loved You. Like games played with daisy petals, I flounder between past and present tense, loving You then and loving you know.

But you have changed. I cling onto what once was, how you are, were, and could be. What we could be.

I miss You, best friend. And even though I wish, yearn, we could be more, I would be happy for anything. A smile. A hello. A hug, a kiss. To know You're still alive in this new person you have become.

But as summer snow melts soon after falling, we are gone. There is no us anymore, just you. It's always been about you, after all.

Father

Thank you. More than you will ever know.

Swimming in the sky

Scars are like stars: they tell stories and help you know how to grow and where to go. I should be learning from every mistake I've made. But why am I still so lost?