Wild:

Rotting in our perfect home,
smiling at your rotting thoughts
here to wrap my arms around you.


How long until we leave?

It's old to read the things you wrote,
but they still hurt, still sting
and I remember how it felt
to be lonely.


To have a city full of people
and care about all of them
with two, and a family, to care about me.

I remember what it was to strip my armor,
to be human, afraid, awful,
writhing in the scent of river, and the feel of sun.
Whispering of silent trees,
and the dreams they taught me to have.

My Kingdom.

I left, their throne and crown and jewels,
but so did their quick-silver-smiling king,
and empty court of empty thrones.

Dead Kingdom, now.

No home to go back to.

How long until we leave?

Endless guilt, an ocean to swim through
monsters in the murky depths

Love, my arms are so tired
and my skin is cold.

Human skin.


How long until we leave?


I need hot sun and rolling waves
I need to be irresponsible and young and vicious.
I need magic in my blood again.

I believe, and strongly, that I can get it back
because I should never have lost it for something as puerile
as fitting in.

Never.


An ocean mark of silver moon.

My magic.

A bed that fits my legs, doesn't hurt my back
the friends I left behind; for the translucent diversion of a life I'll never have here.


Poor choice.



I'm bringing you and leaving Finley,
but Finley won't come.

I have to start backing my choices,
or even more people will suffer for me
than that time I killed a kingdom.





















When are we leaving?





When are we coming back?





































Hopefully by then, I'll have learned who I am again.




































I could sure use the help.