A Muse For His Rebellion

I was eighteen when I met you,

barely old enough to decide what was right

and what was wrong.

You spoke like you had walked the earth a thousand times.

Back then, I was a muse for your rebellion, and I didn’t tell you any different.

I come into a vision of you and I

The sun shone through all the cracks in every window and door.

You had three sugars in your coffee that morning.

I could tell you loved me by the way you said my name.

You kept my picture in your wallet.

That was five years ago now.

I remember the night you pushed me,

leading me into the door frame. You say it’s difficult.

You say I am pretty good at making something out of nothing.

I’ll love you even when I smell her perfume on your clothes.

I keep filling up my glass.

That night, you put your head on my chest and fell asleep.

I was not filled with fond sentiments.

You learn to forgive the people you love, even when you shouldn’t.

The only seat left was by the window.

The flight took off over my city.

“Goodbye for now.”

I am swaying between who I want to be,

and who I am now.

I cannot pretend that the feelings that came door knocking all week,

Suddenly went on vacation.

Fleeing you was the scariest and most freeing feeling I have ever felt.

Cover by Henry Gillis

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