im halfway there
fifty percent
almost

the feeling has peaked
you have come out of hiding again
it's refreshing to see the black and white lines that make you
how they bend and connect
how you breathe and recollect

i never miss you so, because i know you're always here
binding the parts of me that don't really fit together
making peace within my brain
and rest within my soul

i never see quite as clear as when i'm near you

it is a violet hue
an indigo sky

something in the color you bring
that is harmonious
and glues all the pieces together

sometimes the glue remains wet
but time lets the wounds heal
and the glue finally dries

putting all the pieces of the puzzle together
revealing the larger family picture
something that makes sense to us

you are apart of the sense
the knowing
the teaching

it never hurts to continue learning

i used to never understand why some didn't celebrate their birthdays
i guess now i do

which people do say that when you understand a new perspective
that it may be growth

but is it growth when i see that my own birthday is just another day
is it growth when i waste twelve hours of my birthday, sleeping

is it growth when i'm too worried about other people
when my birthday is supposed to be about me

eight years is either a long time or a short time for something
some days it feels like there have only been a few days in between
it feels like a millennium on others

i think eight years is both good
short and long
for things to change
occur
begin

sure
a lot has changed for me in the past eight years
but sometimes it feels like nothing has
just a vast forest that never grows

some days i feel twelve again
others i feel that i'm eighty

but somehow certain things can stop me from feeling either
and make me feel good for just a few moments
and remind me that no matter where i go in life
i'll always have this moment
these things
that i used to die for and have moved on from

i'll always have them
and i'll always feel that way the first time i accessed them

sometimes i look outside from the suffocating box i sleep in
the sun is usually out and keeping a watch on everyone
i just sit there
nothing changes
i usually still feel the empty parts of my body ache

sometimes it takes awhile for things to change
or at least that's what i try to believe
lately that hasn't been the thought

but what i seem to forget is that it's okay to stop
it's okay to stop something that's affecting me negatively


im not a nobody just because i quit something

i have more power quitting it than continuing it

i like that we're loud
despite all the noise complaints
and weird looks in the early mornings

when we drag ourselves to breakfast down the road
when we drag ourselves in from the freezing cold
or blistering heat

i like that we never leave a location singularly
that we're one large support group
that we're a hive

i like that we're powerful
when one of us hurts
it becomes everyone else's pain too

i like that we have each other no matter what
we don't let each other fall
we never let go

i don't think i'll ever let this go

the golden hour often comes when we least expect it
but we pay it no attention and proceed
unaware and naive

i wake up more often than not with a sore tongue
sore from having to keep my mouth shut for so long
for even a single word can ruin so much of what i have

i feel the safest enclosed in a white box
enclosed in a larger box in the middle of the city
where the previous cannot find me

but eventually, sore feet drag me back to the place i dread the most

"welcome home."