Dear Charlie,
When I think of June my lungs shrink. I find myself watching myself watching you in a dream. I find myself seeing myself seeing you close your eyes, remembering that night. This is how I remember it...
When the day was done my bones ached. You were in the room where the instruments were played and friends came to hang on the edge of the couch. Sitting next to you felt better than any tear of relief. Magnets are stuck in jealousy of this synergy. As you placed your hands on your guitar you turned and smiled at me. Sitting next to you, I was without strings, carvings and cross. You were smiling at someone who had just returned to the world a second ago.
Feelings flooded my shell in a flash of that light of yours. My body vanished and all that was left was the mute sound of an invitation, until the moment a hand sent my bones pulsing back into my skin and she asked to take my place. She asked and I replied.
It was bad. I apologised and left your side for a cold chest of feathers. Sitting next to you was better than any tear or retreat but I couldn’t stand to let you see me this way, small, green and cloudy. I fell asleep in a crater and woke up in a jam. I walked to the music and took a place near the bar. You always knew how to see through a room without looking.
You finished your song and they watched you leave it behind like it was a newborn child. I was happy to see you walk to me and smile once more. How did you even get through? Charlie, when you took my hand and said “I want to show you something” it felt like cheating. You were taking me somewhere and I didn’t even care where. I knew that you would never lead me to the crater.
When we walked into it together I was confused. There in the dust under a dim light I could see a few old desks, a chalk board on the wall and some lockers. You kept staring at me, waiting for the math to be done but I kept searching the room for clues. This arrangement of old desks is so strange, I thought. Seems like they were just pushed together without reason. “Can’t you see?” you asked. You thought of everything. As you started to explain the pieces, the fillings and the possibilities I wanted to take you in my arms, be still for seasons and let the room disintegrate.
I know you know that is impossible. I know you know who I am. You always knew how to see through a room without looking. And even though I could not write this without a tear or two, I wanted you to understand what June meant to me. So quickly I was in and out of my body, my mind was tossed. That room is the answer to a question I never dared to ask. This may come as a meteor to you, I’m sorry. We are still the same. You are over there while I am over here, but we’ll always have Dusty.
Here's looking at you kid.
When I think of June my lungs shrink. I find myself watching myself watching you in a dream. I find myself seeing myself seeing you close your eyes, remembering that night. This is how I remember it...
When the day was done my bones ached. You were in the room where the instruments were played and friends came to hang on the edge of the couch. Sitting next to you felt better than any tear of relief. Magnets are stuck in jealousy of this synergy. As you placed your hands on your guitar you turned and smiled at me. Sitting next to you, I was without strings, carvings and cross. You were smiling at someone who had just returned to the world a second ago.
Feelings flooded my shell in a flash of that light of yours. My body vanished and all that was left was the mute sound of an invitation, until the moment a hand sent my bones pulsing back into my skin and she asked to take my place. She asked and I replied.
It was bad. I apologised and left your side for a cold chest of feathers. Sitting next to you was better than any tear or retreat but I couldn’t stand to let you see me this way, small, green and cloudy. I fell asleep in a crater and woke up in a jam. I walked to the music and took a place near the bar. You always knew how to see through a room without looking.
You finished your song and they watched you leave it behind like it was a newborn child. I was happy to see you walk to me and smile once more. How did you even get through? Charlie, when you took my hand and said “I want to show you something” it felt like cheating. You were taking me somewhere and I didn’t even care where. I knew that you would never lead me to the crater.
When we walked into it together I was confused. There in the dust under a dim light I could see a few old desks, a chalk board on the wall and some lockers. You kept staring at me, waiting for the math to be done but I kept searching the room for clues. This arrangement of old desks is so strange, I thought. Seems like they were just pushed together without reason. “Can’t you see?” you asked. You thought of everything. As you started to explain the pieces, the fillings and the possibilities I wanted to take you in my arms, be still for seasons and let the room disintegrate.
I know you know that is impossible. I know you know who I am. You always knew how to see through a room without looking. And even though I could not write this without a tear or two, I wanted you to understand what June meant to me. So quickly I was in and out of my body, my mind was tossed. That room is the answer to a question I never dared to ask. This may come as a meteor to you, I’m sorry. We are still the same. You are over there while I am over here, but we’ll always have Dusty.
Here's looking at you kid.
Labels: alarming truthness, artform, Dear Charlie, music
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