Somewhere Between Creation and Being

they built him out of sandpaper
so he could help those
a little rough around the edges

they gave him rose-colored irises
and put his heart in his throat
so he could only speak love

they wrote him a history
deep within his DNA
(lingering, and a little too clingy)
but he learned to live on promises
instead of mistakes

they gifted him off-center feet
that always leaned into his dreams;
he was tall enough to live
with his head in the clouds.

   sometimes waiting gets to you.
   it settles your leaden bones
   and you forget why your legs won't move

   you fall a little too far
   into everything you're praying on,
   and you don't have the strength to
   pull yourself back into normal living.

   but he was different

he didn't believe, he knew
time didn't slip,
he nursed it

and he never broke
even though they piled
the weight of the world
on his expectant shoulders

   he dreamed to mend the darkness.
   they drew the sun
   into his eyes

   he was different.