there is something
inexpressibly beautiful
about the world
          when the sun begins to rise
and fill the dim sky
with soft rays of light
          and only the birds are awake
to sing to you “good morning”
while everyone else
          is curled up in their beds
unaware of the magnificence
they’re missing
          and everything feels so simple
it’s as if six a.m. is an epiphany
that sparks at your fingertips
          and spreads until
you are encompassed entirely
by a feeling of clarity
          there is something
inexpressibly beautiful
about being awake to behold
          the splendor of this world
while everyone else
is still asleep

i want to take the bits of you i love
and press them like flowers
between the pages of my favorite book

and i want to take all the scraps
that you dislike in yourself
and display them on my refrigerator
to show you i’m still proud
of the person you are
and the person you are becoming

but most of all, i want to spin you like a globe
and drag my finger across till it stops
to discover the pieces of you
that you’ve yet to reveal to anyone else

i want to wrap them up in linen
and place them in an old cigar box,
i’d tuck it away safely
in the top drawer of my bedside table,
so you know i’ll never let
those pieces of you go

because when you share
hidden parts of yourself
with someone else,
you’re trusting that person
to hold the secret sections
of your heart
and to love the bits
you thought
were unlovable

my heart
was in chains
my eyelids
heavy
my knees
weak

but You painted
my soul
with grace

You took my
burdens
and draped them
upon Yourself,
spread Your arms
wide
and said
"i love you
this much"

You took my pain
You immersed me
in love
You continue
to guard my path

You
have set
me free

it feels as if
i'm the one
always chasing
after someone

my lungs are burning
and my heart is tired
i want to collapse
and loll here forever

let the flowers
bloom all around me
as i leave an imprint
in the grass

maybe someone
will gaze upon the blossoms
and mistake me for a lily

ask me who my favorite artists are
ask me what my favorite season is
as me were my favorite memories lie

ask me where i’d love to go,
what i’d love to see,
why i cut my hair the way i do,
who i desire to be

i want you
to ask me these things
because perhaps
my answers will make you
fall in love with me

i surely fell in love with you
whilst you were listing off
your favorites

there are so many types of rain
light rain, heavy rain
spring rain, summer rain

the kind of rain
that make you want to
curl up with a good book,
the kind the races down
your car window
as you look out at
the tall trees whizzing by

rain that you kiss in,
rain that makes you feel alone
sometimes it smells of
new beginnings
and sometimes it feels like
you’re drowning

and the eventually,
it stops
and you can hardly remember
if you even like rain
at all

library books;
     the musty smell floods me with
     thoughts of its past readers
     did a girl like me
     run her finger across this line
     as i have?
     will our lines like vines
     ever intertwine?

rainy nights;
     while the tip-tap and dribble of
     droplets hit my windowsill,
     i imagine gusts of wind
     dancing with one another:
     carless and free
     and without destination

light touches;
     the accidental bump of elbows,
     the awkward entanglement
     of fumbling phalanges,
     a gentle squeeze of the hand,
     a comforting gesture that says
     “i am here.”

now reverie this:
     you and i,
     the spines of our books broken,
          our shoulders barely brushing,
               the sound of soft and subtle raindrops
          all things i adore in one simple
      and seemingly endless moment

books, rain, touches, and you