i want to hold your hand
but the mere thought
of our fingers brushing
leaves my palms sweating
and chest pounding
i want to see you
but that requires you seeing me
and it makes me want to fold myself in,
all the parts of me i'm not proud of
there are too many
because to you i am only a fleeting star like all the rest in the sky
but to me you are long-lived galaxies taking up my headspace, lasting, lingering
even after the last star burns out.

Listening to these depressing songs.
It's ironically giving me the will to be strong,
And I don't mind if they're being played for long.
They're making the oceans of my heart rift,
Letting my soul drift in the cold water.

Staring up into the sun,
Ironically it seems fun.

Dipping in my own sorrow,
Urging me to press play,
Again and again,
Making me feel a little bit insane.

I'm enjoying dwelling in my inexplicable pain,
Making me realize,
That maybe,
Sometimes,
One can be happy by just being sad.