Beyond Lines: My Favorite September

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 Literature) 

Last week, I deconstructed my song Armor, contextualizing my journey through spiritual abuse. This week, the topic is love- specifically, first love. This piece is from Wasteland, the fourth album in Florilegium.

My Favorite September: 

A cluster of stars 

in the shape of a heart. 

She's ethereal twilight.

She's got you mesmerized. 


You're an elliptic galaxy 

staring beyond me.

The constellations in her eyes, 

you have her memorized. 


I gave you my whole sky 

for only half of yours. 

I don’t trust star signs

or signs from stars. 


With your hand holding mine, 

I felt the lies with every touch. 

You wanted sunrise

but I'm faded aurora. 


I’ll never be her, 

your favorite September. 


A cluster of stars 

in the shape of a heart.

I remember...

you were my favorite September. 

First Sight) 

When I met him, he was anything but charming. From his obvious obsession with my ex-girlfriend to his unapologetic jokes, I couldn't help but have a cold shoulder. I didn't know it then, but that was the same shoulder he'd rest his head, limbs twined and everything.

Upon meeting him, I saw a boy who lacked any sense of self. Upon knowing him, I recognized his loneliness. I felt it too. It went beyond proximity- this seclusion we felt, it was existential. And yet, the glow of a gibbous waned when we were together. Suddenly, it wasn't judgment I felt toward him. It was love. Of course, I called it friendly love for the sake of sound doctrine, but there was nothing sound about it. I kept my longing silent, afraid that if I openly loved a man, I'd lose the remnant of community I still had.

First Love)

With each moonrise, he became my favorite memory, and "I love you" became my favorite homonym. He said he loved me, and I said I loved him. The same words with different implications. I studied his eyes as he studied the stars. I loved him with absolution. He loved me... undecided. 

"I'm not your people, I'm your person." The exclusivity, the affirmation that broke me. For me, he was the spiritual breakthrough I'd prayed for yet never received. My first love, the kind you only experience once.  

He always wanted to sing for me in his car, but he ended up crying instead. Over a girl. 

First Heartbreak)

Her name was Lacy. I never liked her, and not just because she lay between me and my conspired future. She was shallow like the shore. I had the depth of an ocean. She was beautiful, and I hated it; with eyes my color only more glacial. I must have stared at her portraits as much as he did, only he looked with lust while I did with envy.

He never told me about her when he held my hand. When he texted me "I love you" he forgot to say "wrong person." That it was, the wrong person. I knew she was using him for title as much as I was for absolution. I accepted that I would never be her. She, his favorite September. But I was just another Sunday evening.

Finality) 

They broke up weeks later. He asked me to his car, the only place he could be himself. I held him as he cried, offering the only assurance I had... that I loved him. He took my hand in his own and said, "I'm going to close my eyes and pretend you're her." Pretend. At least now I'm not the only one.

Staring at the car roof, dead-eyed, I felt my hand graze his crotch. Averse to the crease of his pelvis, I tried to pull away, but that only made him hold me tighter. He'd locked his car doors. I said his name, but he wouldn't listen. Finally, I pretended to take a call from my mother, asking me to come home. When I got out of the car, he sped away, and I never saw nor heard from him again.

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