There was some expanse of time
when I could still count my age
on just two hands
so I wouldn’t have to speak when asked
When my mom still hugged me
in a fluffy towel
when I’d just got out from a bath
When lava lamps
were very popular

There were two in my science classroom
one in my best friend’s room
plenty on tv and in books and magazines
and one on my sister’s desk

I think I sort of wanted one
of my own
but didn’t want to ask
so I just always turned
my sister’s on
when she wasn’t around
watching it sideways and upside-down
and backwards and forwards and right-side-up
marveling at how
it always seemed
to look the same
and making sure
I turned it off
well before she came home
so she wouldn’t know

It was the same thing over and over
up and down
heat up and rise
cool down and sink
blub blub blub
repeat repeat
but it never got old
always in motion
so it always seemed different
despite the same old substance
being inside

I am glad I learned to understand
the intricate beauty of lava lamps
If I hadn’t
I might have had a harder time
tolerating the workings of my very mind
than I already did when I realized
it was all the same
all the same

The mind bubbles up
the same old goop
over and over
tricking us into thinking it’s new
by catching interest
in those moments of change
of transition from
too hot to sink to
too cold to rise
It’s the same old brain goop
the same old thoughts
the same old themes
the same memories and wishes
and dreams
It’s easy to feel trapped
when you’re floating in goo
and not watching from outside

But that never bothered me that
was the thing
Sitting at my sister’s desk
watching the same goop
never bored me
All that mattered was that
I was having a nice time
and the lava was pretty
and I knew my mom would be there
to hug me when I had my next bath

It’s as if the moon has gone on vacation
and left me to control the tides
with a broom to sweep the water
and a jet boat to get from shore to shore

Yes

Yes that’s just what it’s like

and when people ask
I can only tell them
That my brain feels like a whiffle ball
when I wish it was a baseball
That getting up and doing things
is like ordering from an incompetent waitress
that just started working this job
and only does it for a little extra cash
That my inspiration is stuck in that moment
when you’ve just woken up
and as soon as you’ve realized the dream you just had
it’s gone
just a feeling
washed away

That’s what it’s like yes
That’s what it’s like
but that’s not in any way
what it actually is
and if I am stopped from that
if I am asked instead
to stop with the analogies
and tell my truth
and say how I am
I don’t know what to do

The honest truth is
I don’t know
I don’t know how I’m feeling at all
I keep making these choices
and running away
I’m isolating myself
because the times I want to tell someone most desperately
are the same times I wish to see no one ever again
are the same times I want to walk out my door
and into the woods
drop everything
and never come back

Do you want the truth?
I’m scared
so scared
so scared always
so petrified
Don’t ask me why
Everything in me
is too big for words to fit
too much to find the start of it
or the end of it
to untangle it
It’s not something from which I can just
pull pieces and bits
to lay out for you to examine
when you ask how I am
It’s a giant hopeless mess I can’t make sense of

Don’t make me look at it
It’s too much
too much
too hard to look at
to try to break apart
so please
just try to trust me on this one

It’s as if the moon has gone on vacation
and left me to control the tides
with a broom to sweep the water
and a jet boat to get from shore to shore

Yes

Yes that’s just what it’s like

I want to go back and redo high school with you and talk less about school and less about my anxieties and more about the way the rain sounds and how the universe is and the way your eyes squeeze when you’re genuinely smiling as opposed to being sarcastic. I would have loved to have made your eyes squeeze like that more than I made them wide with half-hidden concern. I want to go back to the person I was and tell her that grades and tests and rules aren’t real but that you sure are, that time isn’t as expansive as she thinks it to be so she should make your house her second home and learn the pattern of your mothers laugh by heart and speak to you like a free waterfall of who she is and expect nothing less from you while you’re still there with her. Her time where she is is fleeting, so she really ought to be spending more of it with you and less of it worrying endlessly about things that will eventually stop making sense. I want to go and relive those four years like they should have been lived: like they mattered. Nothing ever mattered more than you.

stars are supposed to make people think about existence
about space
about time
about who we are
and why we are
and why we’re here
and where we go when it’s over

stars are supposed to make people think about stuff like that
you know
because a lot of people consistently forget what they’re here for
(heck
most people don’t even know what they’re here for at the start of it all)

me
i don’t need a reminder to think
i’ve got all the thought bases covered
covered well and good that's for sure

i need a reminder to take a rest
that’s what you are to me
and i guess that's what i've made of the stars

you’re both something that should be one thing
but end up being exactly the other
not the thing I’m told I should need
but what I actually need
something that’s real
something far away
distant
hard to understand
but there nonetheless
always there
you’re always there

and it’s not that you’ve always been “there”
not “there for me” no
no that’s not who you are
and not who i need you to be
maybe you’re meant to be that for others
(i guess i wouldn’t know)
but never to me

because you’re not here for me
you’re just here
you just come as you are

you hate being fake
so you live your life honestly
and i love you for that

i love you for that