Change, too

Did we become adults?

or am I just someone who doesn't know how to grow up and out of it. 

How do I grow out of you?

You, who is the Skull. 

covered in ink and staining my hands

held so softly, but only spoken in-between steps I take

walking when the house is empty

I act as if I have not always known you in this way

within knowing, as in letting; as in holding. 

branching out as long as I become the God

the balanced mix of enlightened jealousy I utterly cling to

What would have happened if I held on tighter?

Sharing the room now?

It feels all the same, I have known you as one. 

I love to see your development

I wish I could change, too.