The Gully

I only came to reminisce.   And I brought someone new along.   You're still being used to the greatest of my imagination.  You still hold a charming barren look.  I like that about you.  I like that you've only changed because you were forced to.  I like that I can still visit my childhood through your eyes.

I'm not sure how my companion feels about you.  (I think she likes you.)  But you're still my fondest friend.

When I think about you, I think of a melody.  You've always been good at harmonizing.  And I'm not sure if that's a contradiction or not, but I mean it.

And you know what?

I don't care that I've had to share you.  Usually I'm possessive and obsessive, but there's an unspoken kinship between those that have owned you.

And your presence--for years--has made us feel on top of the world.

Apocalyptic

I've seen you.
I've seen the way you move.
I've seen the way you let go.
I've seen the way you explode.

I mean those earth-shattering words.
I mean my world is curling.
I mean to tell you.

But we know it doesn't work like that.
We know that I can't.
Do you know?
Do you know how fast my stomach is spinning?

I want you to know.
I want you to want me to know.
I want you to stop cutting corners.
I want you to stop taking shortcuts.
I want you to want to take the long road.

Because even if it doesn't work out,
even if it's apocalyptic,
we'll have it.
We'll have the experience.
We'll know.