originallylacey

[originallylacey]

T.C. Bradley

The strider with wild , windswept corn silk hair

And his pal dressed in fuzzy sweaters

With wide child’s eyes and a desk for his-leaning chair

Always chatting

About nothing much

But their time spent there

Is a comeradery you can almost touch

An innocent verbal getaway

A period 4 affair

They spit silly voiced thoughts and naïve thoughtless questions

To the harshly mild moreno maestro

with fair ingenuity and disconcern , mere-entertainment based intentions

Moving fluidly through pointless conversation

Moving along from thought to thought

Discussing favored names for their future children

In their playful snare one easily gets caught

Inquiring about favorite names

Roping Mr. Moreno in

They chat momentarily

The blonde stalk runner mentions a name - Bradley

But eventually the T.C. pushes past them with a preoccupied sincerity

Coming to a stop at their gate

Of riddles and rhetorical questioning

He nearly plays their game

Before deciding it’s not something -necessary to be mentioning

But in this space, time is precious

And how strange it is that he fits the name

I ask this Mr. Bradley if he wants kids one day

An inquiry relevant yet reaching despite his answer - “I think so , yes”

The gate unlocks and through he walks , -keeping bonds at bay

[originallylacey]

Volando

I stayed after

To reap some petty laughter

To try and look into his face

And talk about things

Anything

Just not what

We already do

When I get to

Be with you

See you

And even still I can’t bring my eyes up to look at you

But at those times I send messages with my glances

Hoping that maybe he’ll understand my advances

I get bits and pieces

Of vivacious conversation

During a time

And in a place

Where I can’t explore further

And I can’t look him in the face

When I treat this circumstance

So eagerly and feebly

I know that I run risks

And yet my impulsivity leads me

So I flick my fingers across my phone

Typing a message that is not condoned

Hoping to see his face

Seeking time with him to be alone

Nothing crass or vulgar

Just some time with someone older

Who is passionate about things like me

Who has already lived what I have yet to

And perhaps never will

To try and find his eyes with mine

And yet I am frozen still

He is interesting

But not the kind I like

Personality wise

Yet his maturity, patience , and kind eyes

Peeking through a quite infant professional disguise

Is enough to make me wonder

If he ever ponders

Me

If I ever come up

If he struggles to find my eyes

If I am ever a recurring guest in his mosaic mind

I think of blocks and squares of colors

A Rubik’s cube or abstract design

Perhaps it is because

It is organized and yet not quite put together

In a sense

Not quite fitting in one line

A curious thing to consider

An activity to decipher

And a patient work, more or less

And though he says

his room is a bit of a mess

he is already grown

And he has much of himself together

And a past completely his own

It’s hard to read

I struggle to see

That which in others I often do

But when I find

His kind eyes

He seems to have been left untraumatized

I think of red black and blue

Some red and whites

Common colors

And surfaces smooth and white

Glass panels clear as day

And

Anyway..,

He conducts himself with patience

And he is trying to find

Success in this mess

Featuring a diamond mind

He says he likes when it shines

In the middle of blank disarray

And yet he is sure

That the word’s of hers

Are valuable enough

To be shared

Often and without care

And insists that he will do things his way

I’m left with nothing more to say

He stands idly with a inexperienced stern look

But he behaves in a way

That makes him unquestionably authority

A relaxed , easy going, fun guy

All at the same time

But his laugh is a sign

That he is either developing or fine

With being one

Who doesn’t stun

A lecture with a stone cold hand

And black brown eyes

When I find them

They are smiling too

And they are brown and kind

Both harsh at times

And at times I find them

Paired with a cheery face

And a nice smile

Telling me

That he

Is practically

Right where he wants to be

He appears as though he is currently trying to figure where he is going

And seems to be confident in not only this

But where he has been

He appears to be at an equilibrium

Where his past is in place

He may not know quite where he is going

But he knows from where he came

You can see it on his face

And hear it in his voice

His assurance and premature authoritative ways

I like him because of this

He is working through a maze

But it is not one of branches and poison ivy

But instead one of smooth marble and stone

Not perfect

Definitely not no

But he seems free from his past

At ease and content with

The years that he has passed

He seems like he may soar at any moment

Spreading his wings

A world to explore

And nothing more

He seems collected

And yet In no way

Made of perfections

He is wary and learning

And will continue to grow old

His young years now

Are clasped tight by a new career

And who am I to try to snatch him

From this unfamiliar and imperative year?

Who am I to move my hair

So he can see my face

If he should be looking there

And who am I to be

A naïve teen of relative maturity

Who poses a threat

To the his practice and his safety net ?

I wish I knew

And yet I try to find his eyes with mine

When I sit swinging on a desk

In a simple cream dress

Telling of hard times and a diamond mind

Crying every few minutes or so

Hoping that afterwards I’ll feel fine

He wants to help

I know he does

He doesn’t know how

I’d say a hug

He asks me once or twice

If he can help in anyway

But I keep my mouth shut

And act coy as if i were to blush

And laugh loudly and say no

And wonder when I’ll go home

He keeps his distance

And I wish he didn’t

But I know that he

Doesn’t see

Me in a way

Where he would up and throw his morals and security away

And of course ; he should not.

I wouldn’t want him to

And yet I do

I do

I know i do

What else am I to do ?

I fight to keep my eyes on his face

And I look at the silvery black hair framing his face

And I wonder if he is greying

I think it is sweet

He has a whole life behind him

And now we meet

probably closer to insignificant

Then I’d like to think

But he is getting older

And he recalls some memories too

I turn around while stiffly pacing

And find myself looking at the playground and hill

Where she and I laid

Where we would feel comfortable and safe

Happy and truly befriended

and I think now of the wilted and fuzzy daisy

She gave me

Not long ago

But in an era of our story

Where she did not

Hesitate to know

Who I was and where we had been

And now I see that playground and I tell him

Life keeps moving

And here I am

Talking to him

Thinking about brushing my fingers across his hand

His hair greying and the daisy decaying

Time has passed and we recall it fast

But time that has yet to tell

Is presenting itself quite fast as well

[originallylacey]

[originallylacey]

[originallylacey]

[originallylacey]

[originallylacey]

Luxury bores me.

“What use am I to you?”

You’re not a use , you’re a luxury.

The problem is that luxury bores me.

You are additional , not necessary . I wish I could give you the interest of being more , but I’m too self enveloped in my own time and space to need to be enveloped in yours.

Luxury is not something that I feel a yearning for, and therefore I feel as though I do not have the time or necessity for it.

[originallylacey]

Maybe I just think that I’m happy. And I’m really not. Through everything, I feel like I’m happy, but how can that be if I feel like I’m running on empty? With the way I’m feeling, could it be that I am truly happy but just struggling? Or am I not as happy as I thought I was at all?

[originallylacey]

I want to run around like I’m insane with you and yell and laugh and smile hard. The way you make me do when I think of you.

[originallylacey]

[originallylacey]

Kindness was her strength and her weakness.

[originallylacey]

Piguino

I met a guy once who I became very close with very quickly ,and I think I’ll remember for a long time how he always walked positioned on the side of me closest to the center of the road with me walking alongside the curb; he was simply protective by default. That’s one of my favorite traits I’ve discovered about and witnessed of any given person. :) We’re still good friends <3. Always looking out for me ,understanding , intellectual, and silly.