they see him running on sunbeams in the early morning. stars are tied to his toes and they rattle behind him like chains, but he has never felt so liberated. there was a time when atoms were exploding in his lungs and he could not breathe, colors would fly behind his eyes and he could not see. his skin was numb from too many suns burning beneath the surface. he used to curse the morning; now he holds it in his hands and sprinkles it down upon us.
he still sees himself as human, is that a surprise? though he is stardust and the remains of energy, he is flesh and blood first. he came from the womb, not from the sky. he knew his hands before he knew his wings; he knew his words before he knew his magic. he dances with the snow on winter nights only to melt it away in the day. he drinks golden wine, it’s gods ichor he sips. he twirls his curls around his fingers and whistles tunes only the bluebirds understand. he runs barefoot through forests and though his feet may bleed, he brings the sunlight with him and that’s all he needs. he trips on skies and sips waterfalls, throws his wishes into wells. he can make miracles happen. what being in the world would want to make such magic angry?
a thousand suns have tried before, to hold him in their burning grasp. there is no force known to us that can contain him where they lack.
I have always known how to breathe, but around you I am breathless.
I have always known how to feel, but with you I can’t place it.
At times I feel safe with you, I want to hold you close and never let go.
Then other times I want to hurt you or myself or anything else to keep from screaming.
The sun and the moon were always set to collide, but I have never felt more at home in your shadow.
You call me magic but you are wrong.
I am no god or angel or otherworldly being, I am human, it is all I have ever known.
Gods and angels would know how to feel or they wouldn’t feel at all.
I may have power running through my veins but against you I am powerless.
Blood may flood my chest, but if you are the cause then I will call it nothing less than ecstasy.
I was always the boy with enough air in my lungs, but with you I am utterly breathless.
Galaxies and wonderment;
Suns brighter than suns;
A collection of constellations
Woven between my fingers.
I cry sunsets and
Hold sunrises on my shoulders;
Like Sisyphus rolls boulders.
This is my eternity.
I see demons in blue light;
Dancing around the firelight.
I see angels with charred wings;
Heads adorned with golden rings.
I have galaxies inside of me;
Worlds they will never know;
With grass that caresses the feet,
And air that smells sweet.
Then there are the withered parts
Of me that I hope they will never see;
With monsters that prowl the dark,
Creations that I pray I will never be.
Stars twinkle above my head.
I look at them and know their dread,
For I am in the space of limbo;
A realm where the winds always blow.
I can feel claws on my skin,
Tearing to rip my head open.
Inside is found stories untold;
Languages only the angels know.
Here I walk among the trees;
Here I walk among fantasies;
Worlds of my own creation.
Here you know my imagination.
Who would have thought it ends this way?
The stars, how they had warned us.
Now I don’t know how to make you stay.
I can feel your life slipping through.
My hands shake, you are cold,
and I never guessed, I never knew.
My heart breaks as I let go.
We never knew where this led,
and now your blood is on my hands.
As the lamb makes his final stand,
I wish this wasn’t how it ends.
And now the sands tell your time.
As the wolf shouts to the moon,
the stars above you, they align.
people write poems
such as him.
with painted nails,
he is like poetry
and as he drinks
his wine, they
will sit and write
if he is such an angel
then why do i see him
in my nightmares?
i know he rules over
sweet dreams and
fantasies, but he is
not in my dreams.
only in my memories.
so the moon rises
and i say to him,
the angel from