Gustave Flaubert

“Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.”


Part I

overwhelming, your expectations of what you mean to me, defined by what I mean to you, catch me off guard as we speak as friends here, tangling everything up in misunderstandings and overheard second-hand stories.

I told you I would fail and hurt you.

I did and asked your forgiveness

throwing myself at your feet time and time again,

trying desperately to right the wrong in the best way we could understand it to be.

take a break from your lense, the box i see you to be

living in, trying to keep yourself safe.

trying to seek out my vulnerability, to make us “even”, for since you shared with me i was obligated to reciprocate? On the contrary, I defined our relationship so that you would understand why sometimes I would draw back, so that you would respect my limitations. I have restrictions, fears, insecurities, that I have no reason to express to you.

we just missed something huge, totally misunderstood everything about each other and where we were coming from.

this ache, this brokenness, this wondering and inconclusive question

like no matter what, our optic nerves would never reach the chiasma and instead

dwell separately and translate everything in our own visions.

you refuse to understand me. just as i am trying to work to get where you are coming from, i wish you would do the same for me.

no matter what you say, you do not understand,

for you are “just that kind of person”

“the kind of person that”

says that they can be defined to a definition of person?

Part II

Yes, we are waking up now after getting much more sleep

time to think over it all and maybe be a little more thoughtful.

It is all over, exhausted and drowned

wrecked and ragged, this

remains a portion of time that will be defined by this struggle.

I, the sailor, the feathery friend waiting to seek warmth,

merely must wait to board the ship to move onwards,

I must let my colors dance in the wind,

wear my heart on my sleeve,

not be afraid to trust or be trusted

for the latter is far more dangerous than the former.