I wasn't always so easily discouraged.
I used to bristle with enthusiasm.
I glowed with it.
It didn't matter if the task was simple, or tedious, or daunting, or boring.
As though on rails, I slammed into each and every task with terrific force.

But I got older.
Things that used to come easily grew slippery.
What I used to do without thinking twice, I found myself over-thinking.
I threw the brake. I ground to a halt.
Finally, I became idle. A left-over husk of a kernel that's already been popped.
I drowned myself with doubts. Hypothetical situations that might never happen.
I lived in fear of what might go wrong.

So I began to watch everything go wrong, as though I was helpless.
I was no less able. I was no less compassionate.
But I had grown wary. Of what?
What was it that, out of nowhere, caused me to slow down?

I guess I looked down and realized that if I fell, I would not be getting back up.

When you're young, you have no worries, because nothing is relying on your success.
So you mess up a math problem. You'll get it eventually.
So you botch things with that cute girl who sits across from you. You're young, you'll get it.
Re-assurance, faithfully, unwaveringly. A safety line should I fall.
But I never really fell, did I? So why am I laying down like I have?

Get up.

Get up.

I worry about everything. I worry that I will fail.

I dread what comes, what I can't avoid. But time, and time, again, it comes, and I miraculously don't die when it hits, because I've been bracing for a train-wreck impact, a force that will really, truly, finally, definitely lay me flat for good.

I close my eyes, and brace. But the crash never comes. The silence that was continued to be.

I turn behind me, but there's no train there.

I'm starting to realize, with relief, (with horror), that maybe all I needed to do was step off the track.

I look down, and realize, with a first-creeping then-howling laughter that I was never on the track to begin with.

I look off where the track is. There's no train there, either. Maybe there never was.

Maybe there never will be.

Just one source of warmth and light
Just one star away from oblivion
As a child holds its mother tight
So forged in need, some love the sun
But needing, still, is not to know
Toward you I gaze without letting go
So to study and to learn
What beauty, from the sun
No pupil can discern

I am drawn to you, whose careful eyes have held off far enough
Deep in my bones, I am writing tales of bold and ancient lunar stones
Your roots and mine are intertwined beyond the reach of star stuff

And if the day did cease to burn
My death it would be swift as light
But if to you I could not turn
I would linger in the pall of night
So I would rather die a solar death
With mercurial mercy, thus bereft
Yes, better snuffed in starry fire
Than to slowly fade within desire

And fear not, love, to need me too
Though not by force, most assuredly
I am drawn to you
I am drawn to you, whose careful eyes have held off far enough
Deep in my bones, I am writing tales of bold and ancient lunar stones
Your roots and mine are intertwined beyond the reach of star stuff

I used to look out the window and wish to the stars,
I used to wonder if people can live on Mars,
I used to cry myself to sleep,
I used to never want to eat,
The pain you left hurt me to deep,
that you were all I ever see,
I used to love the sweet dreams of you,
I used to wish you think of me to,
I used to hope for our love one day,
But I knew the day will never stay,
I used to fantasize about the love we would make,
Your hands over my body in every intake,
Though they were only dreams,
Why did they seem so real to me?

They say envy turns you green,
But for me, I disagree.
Envy is red,
The color of romance.

I envy your shirt,
It constantly gets to caress your body.
I envy your cigarettes,
Constantly at your lips.
I envy the words that you speak,
For they are much more beautiful than I.
I envy the ground you walk upon,
For I want to be the only thing pleading at your feet.
I envy your phone.
Constantly at your fingertips,
Caressing your cheek.
You speak into it,
And I hear "I love you."
I envy whomever lurks on the other side.
I envy your pillows,
Because I know you cuddle with them when I am not there.
I envy your necklace,
For it is constantly closer to your heart than I'll ever be.
I envy the medicine that you take,
For I want to be what takes your pain away.

You tell your tales,
And I am envious of your past.
Mostly because I am absent from your memories.

They say envy turns you green,
But for me, I disagree.
Envy has no color.
Only silhouettes.

I wonder if you realize how simple it would be. I thought about it last night; I think about it all the time. I think it's humorous how quickly I could leave everything behind, how quickly I could forget everything around here. How fast I could run away from these gray walls.
       One ticket. It's comical how solvable the problems are--the depth of the meaning of one ticket aboard any random vehicle. One choice, one idea, one word, and that's it.
       What's keeping me here? What keeps any of us here?
        I'm young, I'm selfish as hell, and I don't need someone to show me the way. It'd be like launching myself through the finish line.

I'm getting chills just thinking about it.

I like the feeling of liking you
it makes me cringe in happy thoughts
keeps me awake at nights
lights me up in the dark
make me feel like the only star at the sky

your long dark wavy hair
falls like a wave of delight
yet your smiles what make me fight,
fight to see it every night
fight to make it shine
fight to make it mine

you’re saying too much,
                too slow,
but I’m able to whip
through my part quicker,
lingering on only what
seems important—

your shoes, never
matching mine
your shirt, short-
sleeved between business
             and pleasure
your eyes—
strong and gentle in
that instant of gratification,
coming together through
our voices, coming to a
****** and then letting
go with our tongues

Behind backs that would snap if their heads were to turn
Between stucco walls, under creaky floors, secret cigarettes burn

Giving fate back to god, allowing time to just roll into smoke
Despite shouldnt’s, besides sorry’s instinctual thoughts provoke

Earth shattering, nothing mattering, death dawning kind of kiss
Heart racing, breath pacing, bodies in an endless ocean of guilty bliss

For-shadowing risky statements, stuck on tongue, never to leave my lips
Dodging probing questions, when’s, where’s, why’s and if’s

Awaking eyes, empty room, slept away the whole afternoon
This day is dead, gone forever, put to bed by the moon

Pounding head, restless mind, only smoking to pass the time
Only lost until I find, only want what should be mine

Secrets kept are secrets rare, haunting, taunting me to share
Should I, could I, do I dare, why the hell would anyone care

In corridors, behind desks, over pots that boil
Around a small table, beside barrels of used cooking oil

Adjacent sideways glances, words burn backs that don’t hear
Whispers gain pace and reach solemn ears
Mean while nothing has felt so good for years

Between sheets and douvet, lungs rise and fall
On clean white pillows, eyes close and thank the stars for it all

Yearning hearts beat next to decent tunes, in a pristine room, a calmness looms

Inside secret moments unspoken words pour from finger tips,
Lightly, only slightly tracing neck and cheeks and jaw and lips