Water is wet and grass is green and
we are us… until it isn’t… and we aren’t…
And that’s how it was, he and I, right
from the start: peas and carrots,
sand and surf, heaven and hell.
We were the late night phone calls that went straight
to voicemail, the last light in the window
when all other doors were locked.
We were voracious laughter muffling horrified screams.
We were bodies twisted in ecstasy and minds broken in
angst. We were psych stays and breakdowns, pills popped
and death threats, sirens wailing and holding cells.
We were life, on a September morning, and death on
an April night. And in our own minds we were golden.
©Nicole Lyons 2016