Can I Be Cain, and You Be Abel?You've never starred in one of my poemsbut so many times you've crept into my dreams,crept is the wrong word, you've barreled in,steam-rolled this safe place, planted yourself,tendrils reaching into every corner,unwilling to let me growaway from the watchful suffocation of your shadow,always leaving me hollering, antagonising, defending,screaming, retching, yelling,for you to only listen.I dreamt I tried to explain to youhow my eyes got their blue,I told you about how there was no special pigmentthat gave them this hue,that their colour was but a trick of lightin the exact same way the sky formsthat yours, so brown, were made of the samejust more,thicker, denser, darker.That I was just like you,just a different view, a different light,that there was no need to,no need,to shut off, to fend, to fight,to dream so often ofa throat scorching stand off,so I can just feel that I can just be,without apologising for so much blue.
SixAugust seems empty...*We parted in July. I loved you too much. I had not thought that would become too much for you to handle. And that we would part on a technicality.It was a stormy eve. And the lightening broke us apart, so easily it almost made you glad.I know. The storm outside matched the storm in your voice.I'll always be surprised at what can happen when two people begin to hate each other.*We fought in June.When your work was getting you down and your parents were putting pressure on you and your world seemed to be falling apart.I wanted to help you. I tried.You told me to leave you alone.I did.*We talked for hours in May.And you told me about your life, about the broken dreams and the mesmerizing aspirations that you once had. And I told you about my responsibilities and my hopes. We understood each other.We thought we would have an eternity to discuss other things. Like a future and the distance and the friends who thought you were not good enough and that I w