It is weird
Because two weeks ago
I thought I was in love with you
That was silly.
I mean,
You are great.
But...
What?

This is probably what
Suppressing
Hiding
Shoving
Emotion
Feels like

Because I can’t
Even think
Or write
Or feel
I just feel…
Like the small smile plastered to my face

Like concrete

Nothing but a small drops of water
Forming at the mouth of the hydrant
Of emotion
Inside of me

And I wonder
If
It is really in there
Or maybe
This isn’t real.
Maybe none of it was real.
And that would be okay.

I have always wanted to chop off my hair
But when I walk in
And they smile sweetly
What can I do for you today ***?

Just a trim
A few inches tops
Maybe a couple layers?

And I leave
Disjointed
Disappointed

And I hide behind the layers of boring
That frame my identity

When my dad goes out of town, my mom sometimes lets me sleep in the king bed.
I feel like I am sleeping in a cloud
Soft folds of white blankets envelop me
Feather pillows
The problem is-
I can’t sleep in it if I have work early the next day
Because leaving that paradise
Is impossible.

I think right now
My life is too comfortable.
I think it is late in the morning
And the sun is shining through the window
The day is creeping away
And I am asleep
Because who wouldn’t be?
And the sun passes by
And who knows what time it is?
And how much of the day I have already missed?

I’m too comfortable.

Time to get out of bed.
Time to take a quick shower
And head out the door.
And get to work.
Because you can’t make the world a better place
If all life means is being content

I really don’t want to sleep my life away.

I wrote a poem about you yesterday

About the light you bring to my life

For some reason

You were only a candle

Just a flic
k
  er
    in
      g

of light
in the dark room

This morning
As I left the land of dreams

It wasn’t dark anymore
Not in the real world

And I see the sun shining through the blinds

I was too tired to open them

But I know there is a sun out there

I’m not quite ready for the warmth

I’m ready to recognize that it is real
I think I’ll open the blinds in the morning

A little part of me
Still hopes
And justifies

But,
She no longer
Can control
My fate.

And I will not destroy this.
Even though,
As I type these words
Every moment
This beauty
Is flickering
Until like every candle
The wax runs out
And the wick burns out
And the light flutters for a brief moment
Fighting

And then it is gone

And it really didn’t last for that long.
I know this isn’t going to last forever.

But,
I hate the dark
Maybe it would have been better
If I was still sitting in a dark room
Alone
Never knowing all of the beautiful things
A candle could show me
And enable me to do so much more

I loved it.
And who knows how much is left?

All I know:
It is going to burn out.
And I will be left here,
Sitting alone.
In the dark.

Sometimes
I am too conflicted
To write

And so
In tiny
choppy
Insignificant
Bits
I release my emotions

And
I can
think about
breathing again
And
To be honest
It doesn't mean
Anything

Not
To me

Not
when only a
tiny
tip
Of my iceberg

is starting
to melt
When all I need
And want
is an avalanche