I am enamored
With the idea
Of being in love
Not the kind of love
Where I say
I love you
And let you meet my family
Or maybe exactly that kind of love
A love like raindrops?
That, as fast as I run away from it
I cannot escape it
I want never ending night skies
But I’m obsessed with sunshine
Especially when it’s raining
Am I my own paradox of eternal delights?
If I am, I think I’m doing a good job of
Whatever this is, for once
I really really like holding on to the past
At this point, my wall is choking
On movie tickets and pictures
But I keep thumbtacks
By my bed anyway
Just in case I need to remember something new
That I didn’t forget in the short walk
From desk to window
It’s not being sentimental, I think
It’s being “sometimes I forget who I am so how do I know I won’t forget how happy feels or how my best friends laugh like sunshine?”
But let’s call it sentimental because
I have a real love-hate relationship with labels
I am the least organized person I know
But I’m constantly labeling people
It’s touch and go, this metaphorical game of tag
Friend, lover, enemy, acquaintance
These labels aren’t permanent
The fingerprints on my skin wash off like chalk in a rainstorm
And let me tell you
I am enamoured with rainstorms
Because when I don’t have an umbrella
They seem to feel a hell of a lot like love