I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

the words could never come out of my mouth,
and as much as i have written them over pages, and laid them down millions of times, my mouth cannot seem to utter anything close to what i think of you. hands cannot seem to reach for what i've always wanted, you became something made of glass, something i only admired from a distance, glistening. fingers could not fan out, i could never seem to risk seeing reality, fearing to fall out of this dream. the nervousness of failing on something my mind has daydreamed about for ages. the silence that was projected, caused by a mind of flying thoughts, of whether i'd regret doing nothing more than regretting making a move. i lived in fear for every wrong move i could ever make, trying to solve the mystery of what your mind really thought of me and why there were moments you disappeared. i tried to search myself to see if pieces of me were wrong, if maybe there were components i was lacking, if being beautiful like the girls with the glassy eyes and structured faces would've given me an advantage.
my mouth became a cage for the words i'd never say to you, and my hands will lock, eyes scared to fix themselves upon you and create more feelings that will be jammed into lumps in my throat.

my dad deals with an exhaustion that i have never endured. stress and heartbeats, computer clicks and international affairs. bank statements and car payments. medical bills caused by trying to pay the bills.
my mother deals with physical exhaust, legs lined with spider webs of purple and green. the pain of losing a soul inside of her she never saw. the weariness of countless years without a good nights rest. rugged hands from abrasive chemicals to clean messes we made. the wonder of "where did i go wrong?" when her daughters were out of line.
my sisters exhaust was beginning to be mine. seeing life through the eyes of others. the successful, the wealthy, the lovebirds on every corner with rings and a heart that sings.
it was like standing at the window of the electronics store.
tv monitors depicting lives so untouchable, held by such ordinary people. she asks herself "how did they do it?" and "why haven't i gotten there yet?"
its the most crushing walk of life, when the expectations you once held are now on the floor stepped on, disintegrating into patterns of sameness.
i am far too young to experience the exhaust of the ones around me, but my fuel is being lost on being a second choice, an afterthought, and 11PM phone call after the day is done and all that is being sought after is satisfaction. i do not want dates in a drive-in because i know your mind is already on the backseat. i do not care for an empty house, because i no longer crave to be craved. i do not belong in backseats. i do not belong in cars, i am the destination you seek through the windshield, the blow of the wind that drives the passenger to sleep, the home itself, the structure and the stucco, strong and unyielding.

i could write till my fingers locked up and i'd still never make sense of this feeling

time feels like a dali painting,
dripping down my chin , oozing into a wasted space.
i wanted to feel what a day was like with out your name ringing in my head, and solve the mystery as to why you resided there for so long.
to be unaware of your existence would be surreal, a euphoria for my tired mind, a serenity for this relentless desire.
my emotions have exhausted over the same person for eternity, clocks disintegrating like quicksand, wondering if i'll ever be enough, if anything will ever live up to this waiting, if its true when they say "good things come to those who wait", right now i'm feeling deceived by such a theory.

once you're gone people will remember things they were blinded to before, but one thing will resonate, like sound waves that never fade. its how you made them feel. what you stirred inside of them. what you provoked that not every individual could. i'll wish my remembrance to be echoes of laughter and vibrant emotion, thunder full of passion, an outlook resembling fresh air. a melody full of rhythm and soul, i wish to fill lungs with winds of tenderness and mouths with sweet gooey nectar. ears with flowers blooming so rapidly they become hanging gardens. eyes fixed on the one above. a new perspective, heights i'll forever wish to show you.

consumed by the thought of love, the way i used to think of it, what i used to think it was, the blind spots that came along as side effects.
the touch, the way eyes met in a different way
i was so afraid to write about love, feeling weak in the knees, the way it provoked me,
the way i melted into it, how i became a puddle in the midst of such a powerful emotion.
a connection i pushed away, biting away and itching my skin,
i wanted to feel good on my own, to feel the greatest peace on my own, to rise in love with my own life instead of falling for another, to ascend and never descend.
the pool of vulnerability, something so hypnotizing, the shade of blue it portrayed, yet the aftertaste of blood in my mouth, from the times i bite my tongue to not say those three words. to not use that four letter word.