If you love someone, then why is it hard to say it?

Why is it hard to tell them and count the ways they have somehow

Rooted themselves within you as your favorite person?

Quite a confusing conundrum.

Because in my head we live in world's unknown, and

I can bare the deep vulnerability that comes with the words.

I can say it, shout it, sing it, paint it, all in my own dream world.

Why couldn't I say it in depth, in description,

even if I lay on death bed?

The desperation that builds in my chest, in my throat, and sinks and wrenches my stomach until it sinks

Because I just want to tell you.

Yet, when it's time I go blank in mind.

Why?!

This makes me feel like I don't love you at all..

But that answer isn't right either..

I just hate that I am bad with words.

My own articulations are like hooks without bait.

And I cast and I cast and I cast my line

but yet, no words come to bite..

I'm just a stranded, confused girl, on a boat in the middle of the sea of love, ultimately at a loss with myself.

I'm sorry that I have never really been that good at fishing.

And the clouds looked like pink tinted ash on top of a blue fading sky.

The stars slowly showing one by one
Like slowly opening eyes.

Waiting because there is no company
Like the moon,
Listening and never questioning why.

They spoke with silence
And in the night, time just passed them by.

When she looked in the night sky

She wasn't just staring at the stars.

Her eyes dived into something more

Searching for the depth of it all.

Pain has lived in all of us and that's why we somehow find the beauty in it,
Because at one time or another
That was us.

We find comfort in it's familiarity.

Depression for me happens slowly,
And for some reason,
Has never quite felt like drowning.

More like a rut that turns into a hole that I've slowly dug myself into.

And then I hit rock bottom and look up to see where I am..
And in those moments, I become utterly shocked at what I've done. Then it gets worse when I tell myself "there's no way out."

"Oh how tall the grave."

It feels like an overwhelmingly empty pit that I'm stuck in.

So far down, so far away..

But I can see the sky, turning from night to day, night to day.

"I'm wasting time." I say.

I also see the light though,
The light at the end of my upwards tunnel and somehow I always get out because it leads the way.

Yet I dig another.
And another..

It is exhausting.
To be so unwillingly, accidentally, repetitive.

I wonder if there will ever be a day when I'm further than 10ft under but will get so tired that I can't fight it anymore and maybe someone will look in to see a skeleton, and bury me
Once and for all.

Give me stars and give me passion
Explosions and Super Novas.
Something out of this world.

Burst with more than you were made of
and become something bigger,
a brighter being.

I am in love with the night sky.

I fall from shooting stars
and breathe in cosmic dust.

My soul is full of constellations
and twinkling wishes.

When will I go back to the stars I am made of?

The world's asleep
But the wind whispers things to me
I doubt any other human being ever could.

The sun's asleep
And the moon babysits the stars
With me.

Keeping me company
Since there is no one else
Besides my cup of coffee.

If we were to take everything away,
All of the human ******* responsibilities,
It would be so easy to fall into you.

I love your souls essence
But this world would rather
Tear us apart than ever see us happily together.
It would rather force struggle than ease.
I have a hard time not drowning underneath it all, and losing sight of you.

Just know that even though I hate the human experiences and become someone I'm not,
I love you, the you you are when we're done here and have nothing else to worry about other than pure love.

More and more
I constantly want to be a ******* blind and blissful, ignorant, idiot.

No longer aware of every little prickling emotion that is
right underneath my skin.

I want to be numb and have my soul fall asleep
like my limbs
instead of the steady intensifying pain
of it gradually waking up instead.

Just need a way to cut off it's circulation.

My passion slept, comfy under heavy covers.
Hiding from responsibility and fear of failure
But something has dragged it out,
opened the blinds to shine in the light.

Now it's ready to move and stretch its wings.
It's sat in my chest for so long
and now that it's ready to fly,
It aches so badly.

My chest is on fire and I wonder
What magnificent phoenix will rise in these flames?
Ash strokes across my feathers,
Turning to black dust in the wind
As I flap my wings and fly into the sun.

I'll be a blazing red
with a splash of orange and a pinch of yellow tint.
Fire flicked across my soft quills
and I am ready to soar.

Today is one of those days
Where I breathe in
But I can't breathe in today.

Rather I am breathing in all
The people I was once
And all the people I will be.

Today,
The air is crisp with deja Vu
And nostalgia.

Today, the air is drenched in the past of a thousand years before
And a thousand years to come and
Sometimes I wish others knew what
That smelled like.

"And what would be your idea of a perfect day?" He asked.

"I am selfish. I could never be happy
With just a day but I crave the perfect life."

And then I thought,
You have to create your own perfect day, every day, to make a perfect life."

I wish I had photos of the people I secretly admire in public.
Ones of people's impatience, beauty, awkwardness, quiet smiles, just the uniqueness of each stranger.

It'd be cool to have such a collection.

To capture and be connected in a strangers world
If only but for a moment.

You're a vulture.
Picking at weakened dead meat
To the point where
No one can just be.

You'll scavenge for every true part of me
Until all that is left
Is the skeleton underneath.

You prefer walking dead corpses
Of your own making
Instead of just letting others
Be comfortable enough
To be themselves.

She is a wilting flower
                  And I am the sunshine begging her
                                                                ­     Just to stay alive.

                                                         ­            She says she's a dying ****
                  And no amount of water or love
Could ever save her.

Sometimes poets say the things that have lived in me so long but never found the words to leave.

I sit here wondering if sometimes
You just have to accept someone else's words
Instead of struggling to find your own.

Why couldn't I have been born with bare feet deep in dirt and grass?
Or with awesome dreaded hair that I can leave a ratted mess?
Face paint and bones for gauges.
I want to climb trees like business men fly through their floors on an elevator
And look over the top of the leaves
Like we look out our windows.
I'd like to eat food that hasn't been sprayed with chemicals and maybe find it myself.
Make my own pots and play in the mud.
I want wind and sun on my face with my spirit running wild.
Why can't I survive?
Instead of living and feeling like
Something's died inside?
A place without war and people always hating on another.
Live amongst animals
And run through the forest
With my companion right behind.
Why can't I be so deep in nature
As deep as we have our noses buried in our phones?

I want to breathe in the grass and the wet leaves that decorate the floor and sip from streams.

Why couldn't I have been born with a different type of free?

The lion takes the reigns
And I am learning what it's like to take
Courage.

I do not need a mane to be
Powerful.

I am finding my claws, my strength,
My roar, my teeth.

Watch my lips curl back
And let me show you what it's like
To be queen of the jungle.

In the stillest of moments,
Like in early morn or
Late night when the world has
Teetered on it's quitest side,
My soul escapes.

Floating in small pieces on the coarse of my breath,
It drops like snow and melts
me into the present.

And I let an essence of myself
Bind into the fabric of those memories, and every early morning
Or late night when everything around me has settled,

I come back to life a little.

I feel ******' restless.
There is too much noise in my head as my thoughts rush by like cars on a freeway.
I can't make them stop going 90 miles an hour
And I can feel the anxiety rising with the speedometer.
I'm running out of gas but I just keep going
Faster..
             Faster..
                          Faster.

The car in autodrive,
I'm just waiting for the crash.

Cynicism that seeps into the heart
And baby, my heart is drenched in black hatred.

Sulfur breath and poison kisses.
I'm your raging demon.

Don't try to get me to settle down
and make me your Mrs.

I'll never be of Love and Light
when I hate my ******* life.

I am never satisfied.

Yet you try to please.

I am uncontrollable pure white fire rage.

Existential dread has taken it's toll
and I have lost the last of my control.

I want War to wage.

Rot to ensue.

The world to burn down right along with me and you.

And I might obsess with total impending doom,
Cause it's better than being stuck in this ******* room.

I can no longer take being alive on this godforsaken planet.
Why make something, just to abandon it?

Don't try to soothe, don't try to caress.

I will ***** out the light within
And possess.

So if you want to keep your sovereignty
Then you better stay the **** away from me.

There is soul in storms, in rain,

and I wonder

Can you miss the weather

The way you miss a lover?

I am not here for your sunshine,
I am here for your storm and waiting on the rain.

I am not here to coddle you
Without at least touching the pain.

It's easy to love a happy, easy going, sunny morning,
But it takes guts to smile through someone's rage.

I will not tolerate dragging weight.
I will break your ******* cage.
The ankle on the chains.

How much longer will we hear the thunder
Before you finally just let it rain?

Rain on me and bring sweet inner alchemy.

Rain, rain, rain,

And be free.

It was one of those nights that instead of feeling as bright
as all the other stars that had been pin-pricked into the sky,

I felt more like the blackened blue stretch behind them
because tonight,
I just flickered out of existence.

I feel like I'm supposed to be somewhere else
But I keep waking up to the same ceiling.
Tethered to a body.
Anchored here.
Inside a character that I no longer want to play out their story.

I want a new one.
New everything,
before my soul consumes itself,
plagued by restlessness.