SkipperBrian

“Let me do the stupid stuff” 
My opening gambit 
A profound declaration of loyalty 
or a cruel and prophetic waste of whimsy 
If our love wasn’t complete joke I’d worry for the gods lack of humor 

You were an open book 
Many pages begging for entries 
For our future, while we’re young, then old 
Us, the story of love 
Would you believe it’s a fairy tale where they all die in the end?
   

A family, nothing more important 
Not a bad start, agreeably 
Those wonderfully empty pages  
Filled with a boy, a girl, and a dog in tow 
The ink in the pen, though, slick like the devil, and the girl was ready to steal the god’s fire: 

Lady Promethea, 

A myth you might have missed. 
About the girl who ran off with a pure, pure heart 
It belonged to her god’s, of course, her one true blessing. 
Scurried off into the mist, heart in hand, growing oddly heavier as the miles turned to days, and the days turned into cold, manipulative marathons 
What was once so pure, and taken for reasons such might be poison if the wretched, the touch.  

Alone 
For a boy who was Born to Run 
You sure had a way of ignoring  him burying his love in your garden  
wherever the ground you did water 
I can’t help but think the stupidest thing I did was present you with a heart I didn’t think could break