Frozen Planes

Here is my next set of words, a poem written for you.

Bridging all my painful realities into one.

A life filled with what could never, ever be.

Heavy, lingering darkness, loveless love and elegies.

You caught me in the signals, amidst wires and static beings.

For what could never be, I write this about you, about me.

We built a sanctuary out of shadows and monsters and hidden dreams,

A beautiful, quiet, longing place where we kept our wants and needs to roam free.

Promising eternity in whispers and stolen kisses, while the rest of the world stayed pressed, inept and at ease.

I learned quickly, you cannot chain your life to a ghost frequency. You cannot put value in the words of a man who cannot speak, who cannot leave.

Who weaves worlds trapping all your dreams, anchoring them in the tides, letting you roam the empty waiting room we refused to clean.

Is it just their selfish ways? Trapping you, keeping you?

What are we in a world where we could be anything?

Be the love that steps up and sets yourself free.

Do not dwindle or swindle or water yourself down to ashes, or be the wreckage that traps another being in your limbo, your limerence, your need to be seen.

The salt of your scent still stains the memory. Like it was meant to be, but never was, never could be.

You are the world I tried to hide, tried to manifest, tried to be. But I was never enough.

I am writing this to mark the exact place we stopped, ceasing to exist. Because we had the audacity to ruin an entire life that we can never revisit--all because we chose to cease.

We are who we want to be, who we want to be with.

We dissolved back into the shadows, where we always belonged. A secret.

We leave our love burning on the wire, where birds can gather, and chatter and chirp. Where our connection burns and blazes and withers until frayed, and spent. A seismic serpent.

You love me as I love you, myself.