here
i am
floating
not on a cloud
not carried by space dust
but floating on my own
caught in between
two sides:
i'm not happy and i'm not sad
i'm growing older but i want to stay young
i want to be foolish but wise
and soon i have to go
but i don't want to leave yet

is it so hard for time to slow down?

mother cried
because she was beautiful
her daughter,
the placid girl.

she cried,
because the men wanted her,
yet could not love her.

as millions plucked
flowers for their beauty,
then threw them to pavements.

they touched her,
because she was beautiful.
they defiled her.

they ripped the petals
from her throat,
and left her to wither,

a rose on the sidewalk.

sometimes boys will whisper  
i love you's too quickly
and you, anon, will believe them
with your gentle heart, and
capacity to believe in miracles.

sometimes the first guy isn't
the only one,
sometimes you didn't like him
to begin with and that's okay.
i know you wish it was that easy.

people say to look for love
in all places, but love likes to hide
in the nooks of bookcases,
in cars parked under trees,
in his reflection in the rear mirror
as he glances to see you
walk past with your heels too high,
and smile too giddy.

but that wasn't love.
love is mutually shared.

sometimes you fall in love
and it will hurt worse than that time
you broke your wrist.
you will shake with tremors
of madness and you will
remember his name.

it's like hearing a song
you haven't listened to in years.
something jogs your memory
and you still remember the lyrics.
you will list his hobbies,
his favourite colour, with
perfect memory.

anon, you keep finding love,
and you keep losing it,

but be patient, please.
when you are ready
tell love to come another day.

and today is one of
those days
where you wake up
to reality snuffing out
the flame of hope
and optimism
you've spent weeks
trying to light

today I am bombarded
with the thought of you
leaving
with the weight of
92 days
hanging over my head
like a rain cloud
today
I am
tired

and I've found that even when
I'm with you
I'm not really with you
because I am always too busy
thinking about you leaving
to enjoy what little time
we get to share together
and I'm sorry for that

I don't know how to apologize
for my feelings
in a way that doesn't ask for
you to say
"you don't need to do that,"
because believe me
I do

I am sorry
that despite my best efforts
I will not be able to be strong
all of the time
or perhaps even
a majority of the time

I am sorry
that I will never get used to
saying goodbye to you
that I can promise you
leaving will never get
any easier

I told you
this would be hard
and I meant that
but I also told you
that there is no one else
in this world
that I would rather do this with
than you
and I meant that
and that is what makes this
so
easy

and I mean that.

Your eyes. I think it started with your eyes. It was unexpected, like most things in this life are, but it was definite. That moment. The back of a warm car on a cold winter day. Your head resting sleepily in my lap and the tired January sun peeking through the fog of afternoon clouds, illuminating that small corner of our universe. My fingers ran through your hair like muscle memory as if I'd been doing that with you every day for years. You tilt your head up to look at me and that's when it was. That's when it happened. I've never fallen in love with someone's eyes before. Having met you makes me wonder if I've ever really fallen in love with anyone else at all. And I haven't written in months, because part of you still feels like a dream. A random phone call waking me up from a nap, an email when we haven't spoken in weeks, a nine hour car ride to be in your arms again. So many things separate us but none of these things matter in the grand scheme of me loving you relentlessly. I've said it before and I will say it again, again and again; it's you. Have you ever loved someone more than you know how to? I swear, it started with your eyes.