Chaotic Dreamer

poetic_star's picture

*inspired by Brian and Michael from Queer as Folk :P

The sun dies in your irises as you lie in bed,
clutching a joint between your fingers and
savoring the memory of a fight on your lips.
Friend, you start the evening off like a burst
of color and light brighter than a carousel,
but towards the end of the rave, you're
already bored and empty so you turn
to hospitals and dramatic suicidal promises,
threatening to jump if I don't hold your hand.
Manipulating the seasons in Pittsburgh,
my friend, you drive me wild.
But somehow, I'm always playing this game.
It never gets old, chaotic dreamer.
You're hotter than any phoenix's wing.

It's sick, fun and unimaginable,
what we've shared for years
of riding bicycles and selling lemonade.
Now we find ourselves wearing suits
to work and drinking shots
in bars just to forget the past.

Chaotic dreamer, I know what your biggest fear is;
that one day your youth and beauty will be gone.
Like Dorian Gray, you're cynical to a fault.
You even went as far as hanging yourself
with a chair and a $50 scarf.
But I showed up in time and cut you down.
"Why do you have to ruin everything?"
you yelled and I said with
tar black tears coating my voice,
"Because you'll always be young
and you'll always be beautiful."

My friend, you used to run down blocks
to my house when your dad was drunk
and called you names.
Beating your little fists on the front door,
you'd wait for my mom to let you in and
then we'd read comic
books and eat mac and cheese,
staying up late until
our eyes stung red with sleep.
I'd rest my head on
your shoulder and you'd sling
an arm around my waist.
It was weird, exciting and real.
"No regrets," you whispered in my ear.

Kryptonite graffiti;
you don't know whether to be bad or good
and I'm like a kid who just won't let it go..
Sleet and paper cranes,
you're a superhero gone rogue,
ignoring stop signs and
dancing with no music.
Really screwed up and impulsive,
you're still extraordinary,
like a fire so strong and
we both feel this passion like gods.
It eats up our flesh and
makes love to our bones.

Cowrie shell bracelets,
billionaire rides and expensive kisses;
the world revolves
around you looking your most wicked.
Biting down on shame,
you'll always be young,
friend, and you'll always be beautiful.
No accidents or illnesses can change that.