Despotism

Despotism

_{she is a bird sitting, teetering on
a power line because
one way or another, she figures
the best way to end
a story
is a big bang.}

He is a fish swimming, traversing along,
Against the crashing tide because
He figures he can defy the law one or way or another,
And the best way to begin
Is to finish the end
Before he's stuck in her talons.

_{though she is made of feathers
and bones and she is still weightless enough
to take to the currents of air,
she is powerless
against the waves his actions
make, and she is so easily swept away that
she thinks her body might as well
be made of stones.}

He could tell she was astounded by his ocean,
By the place he calls home to.
He welcomed her to the lowest depths of it,
She couldn't resist the deepest blue of the marine,
Nor the glitter of his fishscale,
And the place he called heaven,
Eventually became this bird's hell.

_{her eyes were always the
size of jupiter when he was around
because she was fascinated with
the way he moved so gracefully from
ocean to ocean (with waves in between them.)
and i think she was a little jealous
that she could never be a dancer;
not in the ocean nor
the skies.}

He swam with the giftedness of pisces,
As he was an artist at heart,
And he drank in her attention.
He was addicted to it.
The way she looked at him with such adoration,
But he had gotten used to being noticed,
It wasn't anything new to him,
It was just that SHE was so different,
And he was determined to catch her heart,
The way humanity captured his brothers.

_{and she always felt drowned
in the stares he gave her,
eyes round and bright and she
never knew how to tell
a rainbow from rain, because who was she
to call something beautiful and
the other ugly.
but she did anyways because infatuation
is a game of love and
someone is always going to be left
clawing for air at the bottom of the sea.
it would not be her, she decided, because she was
the daughter of oxygen and
she wasn't planning on drinking in his
hydrogen.}

But she kept coming back,
She couldn't get enough of it,
The way his skin never ceased to shine,
Even on the darkest of nights,
And the way the ocean never lost its color to lack of light.
Because to her, he was the light that made it so vibrant,
No matter the time.
Now...the way she hit the ocean became an addiction,
She was craving his hydrogen.

_{she drunk him in like whiskey
and ice (because she was a magnet for
unhealthy things) and
her heart fluttered, bleating, as the
waves of his words, his thoughts, sent her sinking.
and the little bird never cried out
for help, because there's a thin line between
flying and treading water.}

And when she finally became dependent,
On the shine of his scales and depths of his ocean,
He no longer knew what to do with an Aves,
That wanted to make his home her resting place.
Or maybe he misread the signs,
But he didn't love her that way.
He was purely infatuated with the infatuation,
But he wasn't in love with her feathers,
Or the beak that made her physical manifestation.
It was foreign and exciting,
And he pulled her in the way a shore pulls in the tide,
But she wasn't to be a part of his life.
He had no plans to slow down for anyone,
And he refused to be tied down. 
But he couldn't go too much farther,
Above the surface before he needed to return to the bottom.