You’re in a weird place right now;
you feel like you don’t know which way is up
and which way is down,
and you know everyone
says to just follow your heart,
but you don’t know where it is.
It’s in that clearing where you left it.
It’s in the summer air.
It’s in a love you haven’t touched.
It’s in a song you haven’t listened to.
A book you haven’t read.
You’ll find it again,
you will,
just please,
don’t stop looking.

i think
i loved you
long ago
before i knew
what love was
and something
tells me you
love me now
only because
when i laugh
by his side
you always
turn away and
whenever I
try to approach you
you purposely
run out of things
to say and it
pains my heart
to think that
we were so bad
at getting our timing
right and now the
most we will ever
share is never
sharing our light
i think
i loved you
long ago
and maybe you
did too
but timing is one
hell of a thing
and you still never
said I love you

my lovely boy
you look so pretty when you lie
it's a shame
you had to be
such trouble

s.s

Have you ever been in love?
By being in love have you ever felt trapped?
Not only trapped in your heart but in your mind?
By being trapped have you ever felt lost?
Like imagine yourself sitting in the dark, cold, darkness of the night, sitting in a cage. That’s locked up and no one is there to let you free.
That’s how I feel.
By being lost have you ever felt like you give too much to people who don’t want what you give?
Like love!?
I give a lot to people.
By giving a lot do you feel forgotten?
Can I ask you one last question?
How old were you when you fell for somebody who didn’t care?
No matter how close you two were

please know that I love you more than the stars, the sun, and the skies could hold.

but I don't know how to fix something without damaging it the process.

you are fragile, and my hands have unintentionally fractured you countless times. I know this, even though you've never explicitly told me.

I dance on eggshells around you: I am atlas, pirouetting across an empire of thin ice, just so I don't mar you with my words.

swallowing conversations and feelings is a talent we both possess. to spare the pain of the other, we dampen the truth. we drink the fires of resentment and leave them to ferment.

I cannot fix this without potentially damaging it further.

I'm a storm with skin. my collateral damage knows no bounds, spares no mercy. you know this. but hear me, and heed me closely.

I don't paint you as the villain. you aren't the martyr. we are equally responsible for this damage and decay. the rot of something once beautiful.

yet I cannot fix something without causing further damage.

we are a two way street. growth of beauty cannot flourish in stagnation.

please, do not test the limits of my volatility. I cannot mend the tatters of thirteen years with a single spool of thread.

I refuse to swallow fermented resentment. I walk on eggshells carrying mountains for you no more.

this tapestry will end in one of two ways: opulent splendor, or devoured by living flames.

I cannot fix something without destroying it in the process.

i spent
so long
searching
for the universe
never realizing it was
hiding in disguise perhaps
that explains why i was always
so     very      lost      in       his     eyes.