that we ascribe to the sun and the stars

that seeing the sun shine as if

it would be beautiful but we would just be blind

to the fact that the stars are far

and that the sun shines as we wake up



that we also ascribe to the moon

the reflection at night when all is dark

and it becomes our hope that nights end

and the sun comes back

and love will, too



that we ascribe to rivers and summers

free-flowing and full of life

that love frees us and makes us live

but they are also forceful and blistering

that love chokes us and burns us out



that we ascribe to twos and threes

and blues and reds and

everything that people sense

and can relate to—

love is a specific thing, okay



no, love is a fragile thing

that is not meant to be written by

Kaurs, Leavs and Faudets

and likened into threes and stars

we do not ascribe fragile things to generalities

I was falling deeper
into the abyss,
and i shouted for help
i was greeted with words
but i never received hands
to pull me
out of it.

I barely remember
when i first started talking
yet i knew all my needs
where provided by crying.

Now, i am more capable
of more complex letters
and clearly, walking
to seek help first.

But i am stuck
in this
endless cycle
of
doing everything but failing
running but losing
hitting
writing.

This isn’t a letter
and it’s addressed to no one
because
i don’t know how to talk
and even get to someone.