There is something so deeply fatiguing,
that it takes any illusion of meaning,
steals the purpose I was using
to keep, keeping on moving,
even when I’ve been sleeping in
even when I’ve been eating enough;

This life just makes me so tired.

A beautiful thing to remember,
Is that what is will become once was,
And what is now once was still is.

Everything must come to an end,
But that doesn’t mean the story is over,
It means you have just found the beginning.

In order to see the true meaning,
You must understand the ending.
And in order to open new doors,
One must become closed.

So while I am surrounded in sorrow,
I shall remember;
What is will become once was,
And what is now once was still is.

And it shall remain forever.

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists