East Coast Lovers

Be my golden hour
The gentle breeze that wraps us in night air
Hands that comb through the fine grain sand
Footsteps left in the wake of the white wash
-the very thing that settles the day.

Be my golden hour
because you breathe new air into these lungs
and I like the sand that settles between our palms
feet press prints like maps leading us home
-the way that we, feel like home.

Golden people bathed in golden light
looks like the world setting itself on fire
I’ll set myself ablaze
if the warmth feels like the way it did
-always like the very first time.

So I ask
Will you be my golden hour?

-m.j.t-

All Good Love Does Not Burn Like the Sun

They never prepared me for someone like you. Every single past one, was a star in my world. But you, you were the sun. Drawing me into you, with your gravitational pull- something like your own kind of orbit. I lost myself in that, slowly careening towards your surface, plummeting into your atmosphere with all my might.

I caught fire like a projectile breaking in from outer space.

Alight, I could not be stopped. Alight, I was something that felt like yours.

But you are not a planet like me, you are not just another star in the sky like the others. You are warm, too warm, the brightest star I should say. The deadliest star of them all.

I am merely a planet, and like planets do, we revolve around you. So I plummeted into your bright orange hues-the coolest of all fires- but I wouldn’t know that until much later. I let you mar and dent the surface of my world. I let you light me ablaze. I let myself burn into you.

I would not know I was dying, I would not know I was burning- in pain, rather than lust- I would not know I was ash and dust until I reached the very blue core of you.

The hottest of all fires burns cool like the smooth ocean surfaces. This is where I laid myself to rest, wanting the ocean instead of the flame. But like all lovers do, I mistook the flames for oceans, and burned out like the stars.

-m.j.t.-

“So what did you do?”

“I loved people who were incredibly broken. I let their brokenness fill the holes inside of me. I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t need fixing, I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t need me.

But I wasn’t a hero, I was a fraud. Because, like the blind cannot lead the blind, the broken cannot fix the broken. But I loved them viciously, wholly, truly- as much as I could, with all that I had in me.

I saw worlds in their eyes, an escape from my own. Lending me their flesh for nights that weren’t memorable. Seeing their beauty behind all the pain. I found nothing in them, yet they found everything in me. As time passed, they needed me less and I needed them more. Until I wasn’t the girl they once met, and I was hollow again in their absence.

So, you asked me ‘what did I do?’

I learned to be alone, to be comfortable with myself in the 4 a.m.’s of each day, I let myself be alone- for once.

That was the day though, that I realized being alone is not the same as being lonely. Lonely can only be found, when you cannot be alone.”

-m.j.t.-