splayed limbs and warm sun and sneakers laid to the side and sun on my body and the sound of the water more than anything else

A midday shower to get the stickies off, maybe its all worth it

If I get to spend even a second in the wind, drinking in its cool caress, how could I remember to yearn for the warm sticky touch of another?

If I get to hear the rushing of the water so close to my ears, what phantom chatter of ghosts could permeate?

If I get to feel the sun kiss my skin the way it does, what significance could the absence of you hold?

When I have so much, how could my heart remember to need you?
When I have so much, how could my heart not want to share it with you?

You who I know would love it. You who I wish loved me half as much.

When I have so much, why does missing you take up any room for gratitude in this cluttered mind? I started off alright this time.

This is not a rhyming poem.

****** poetry, maybe 5 is my lucky number. But 5 is a lie I tell to and for myself. I seem to have been briefer to you than that.

The difference is that I say 5, and you do not say.

Won't you keep me dizzy so that I stop spinning
Out of all control when I'm alone

And won't you keep me busy so that I stop snoozing
All the day away when I'm at home

Sing to me, Sera
We're calling you back home
Prozie, Addie, all of our old friends.
Sing to me, Sera
Please don't leave me alone
I want to look at my life through your lens.

Day 33, a review:

Without it, I sit,
And if I'm bored, then I sleep.
With it, I am up:
I look with wide open eyes,
Eyes that see the world
And all I could be doing.
I step with purpose,
Standing tall and confident.
I wake, take the pill,
Eat my food, drink my coffee,
And drive off to work
With an automatic smile,
And I sing along
To the songs I know by heart.
Without it, I sit,
And if I must stand, I lean;
Dragging tired feet,
Holding a troubled tummy,
And wishing I'd wake.
In the end, on these days off,
I find energy:
I discover the reserves
Of serotonin,
Dopamine and endorphins
That my body saved,
Keeping stored for "the future."
My brain slowly learns,
And the fuel to keep going
Isn't out of reach.
So on these days off,
I won't despair or decay.
I used to collapse,
Before I knew my full strength
And what it felt like
To set my mind and finish.
So help me today,
God, let this Adderall work
To give energy
And to strengthen my body
For this scary four-mile hike.  

~didn't get my refill before leaving for vacation~

Pills handed to you that were foreign and strange
was all it took before you changed.
The outgoing person I loved now was cold towards me
I wondered how could that be
You were not the same
But who could I blame
For doing this to my sweet sister
My answer leads me to your mister

Electricity runs in my blood,
Painting the trees a more vibrant green,
Than the unburning eye can see.
The taste of the air.
The burn of ice in my lungs.
The charge under my skin.
The world moves in slow motion,
But my heart beats fast in my chest,
And I feel warmth run to my upper lip.
The red is startling,
Sends my mind into fright,
But I soon relish in the feeling.
Seemingly alive for the first time.
Seemingly dying.
The feeling of birth and death as one.
The feeling of life and decay as one.
The feeling of adrenaline and sleep.
My hands are shaking.
My hands are shaking.
I got blood on my sleeve.
I want it in my mouth.
I put the fabric in between my teeth
And ****
But I can taste no copper.
I am trembling,
The chalk lodged in my throat.
I am flying high,
So high.
And know it will pass.
I am Icarus flying by the sun
I am Daedalus, ashamed of his failure
My fingers do not craft wings,
But words.
Endless, nonsense words
That my mind deems sensible.
But I am Newton.
But all things must fall,
And gravity has it’s hold of me.
It never brings me down gently.
All things must fall.
Even stars must fall.
Even stars.
Even angels.
Even lovers.
I love it,
love.
I love love.
I love to love.
I hate to lose.
I miss it.
I miss loving.
I miss falling.
I miss the natural drop.
This is artificial,
Electricity holding my wings aloft.
The wind whispers no poetry.
This is not beautiful.
This is not harps and angels.
This is not making love in the hay fields.
This is not a dive off of a cliff.
This is the bass in my ears.
The whispered hush in my head.
The shaking of my desperate legs.
And I hear the beat drop.
All things must fall.
All things must fall.
Even girls must fall.
Even boys must fall.
Even the place between must drop to it’s knees and beg.
See me.
See me.
Watch me as I burn myself to the ground.
Watch me hit the ground.
All things must fall.