catalogue of poems and prose

My grasp was too weak to hold onto you. And rather than sadness I am filled with relief.

I stand on the wet planks of the jetty and stare into the grey ocean, squinting as if my eyesight was good enough to grant me the horizon of Atlantis. 

In Atlantis, is that where you are now?

Some far away pseudo-legendary kingdom that only some very fortunate mortals have the gift of seeing. Those who passionately believe in god, those who tucked their baby teeth under their pillows- those who are still filled with the same imagination they had as a child.

I am long past that person. When you first saw me, I wonder if you already knew that. There is not enough space in my small body to facilitate the bloated feelings of love and wonder. 

I am too small for you, the you who encompasses the entire galaxy at their fingertips, who brought the cosmos and infinity to their knees with a single spoken word. 

You are a warning sign decorated in linen and mellow seafoam blue.That the limitation of the dreaming man is far and unreachable, and like the stars, he too will eventually combust once he tries to reach out beyond his place on earth. 

Finding music where others found stillness, finding stillness where others found chaos- has the land become too filled with sounds for you to stay? 

When you writhed in bed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat from constantly penning the variables and different interpretations of each silk thread in the blankets. When you were busy imagining the unimaginable, I slept peacefully without a thought in my mind.

Is that why I cannot reach you? Even when I try my hardest for the rest of my years, will I never be able to compete with your unfinished legacy? 

Perhaps if I stood in the sand instead, and buried myself knee-length in mother nature you would show yourself to me. 

If I let the shell-less hermit crabs make a home from my body, I could possess a fraction of the romantic and the kindness you became.

Under the waves, do you find the singing of sirens more enchanting, or do you find more fascination in their silence? 

The inescapable, resounding sound of silence in the ocean, among the murky nothingness, are you finally at peace?

I cannot imagine my presence ever reaching you the way the quiet did. Even if I pretended I could, the lack of warmth reminds me that you have a better place than next to me.

I am too small to compare myself to your ocean, the infinite and never ending depths you can share your dreamer’s language with. 

Where I will forget your words and whittle away into quiet bones, she will carry you into the coming millennium effortlessly, and even after your combustion, remember you forever.