I’m sorry you’re the sun, moon, and stars up so high
When I’m not a single sparkle in your night sky

I’m sorry I’d drown for you in an infinity of blue
When you’d watch me as if it was a spectacle so new

I’m sorry you blossom into my life like spring
When I ache because of the bitter cold your winter brings

I’m sorry you’re a masterpiece of things so bright
Because for you, I’d give up colours and see black and white

I’m sorry I let you take me with the song that you sing
When I’m haunted by the bittersweet tune that you bring

I’m sorry I wish I cared less the way you always do
And I’m sorry I can’t because of the curse that is you

I drown in the depths of your ocean
I hang from the noose of your words
I suffocate as you take the air I breathe
I am pale from your winter so absurd

I burn by the scorching heat of your dessert
I am lost in your maze of lies
I am scarred by the blade of your selfishness
And I am blinded by the beauty of your light

your facade
will fade.
despite the splendor
of its ornamented
exterior,
in time,
it will crumble
and appear
to be
the wreckage
it had
always been
from the
very start.
this manufactured
structure
with shallow
foundations
and over adornment
cannot stand tall
for long.
one day,
these pillars
will turn into ruins,
burying
you
and all your
falsities
along with its rubble.

We are born time travelers,
Constantly drifting away,
Across a vast sea,
Of Time and Change.

We are resilient,
Taking every action to reach,
Across the Great Divide,
To shake hands with tradition.

We are restless,
Dreaming endlessly of somewhere else,
Sometime else,
To fill ourselves.

We are loyal,
Seeking truth in the lies,
We were told in lives before,
To question everything.

We are joyful,
Calling vinyl records and pipes our friends,
As we clench supercomputers and earbuds,
To drown out the sound of progress.

We are unsatisfied,
Claiming a lot in life that has passed away,
We stare at the past and genuflect
To respect the places we will never be.

I'm afraid to write about you because
Ink makes me feel everything,
And everything feels so much more real
When my cursive words smudge up against
The side of my hand and stain it blue
As my pen races to keep up with my heart

But it can't be real,
Because I thought I was moving on,
I thought I was growing up,
I thought I knew all of this was
Foolish and starry-eyed

I thought, I thought, I thought
But maybe I need to stop thinking
And just let myself feel;
Feel the butterflies you put in my stomach,
Feel the pure bliss you infuse into bloodstream

And maybe I don't need to know everything,
Like exactly what you're thinking
Or exactly how I feel
Or how all of this is going to turn out

I guess what I'm saying is that
Everything isn't always going to be clear,
I may come up to "two roads in a yellow wood"
And not be absolutely certain which one I'm meant to take,
But I do know that whichever path I choose,
I'd like to be able to scan the trees and smile
Because you're there walking alongside me.

ever since i could remember
i would answer crosswords
in the newspaper
and fill in the tiny
vertically and horizontally
stacked boxes
with letters
that formed words
that made sense.
i would play connect the dots
in childish booklets
wherein i'd always
be able to
connect the dots.

moments i spent
with these silly games
and petty riddles,
have definitely not prepared me
for you.
never have i come across
anything as
…puzzling.

you are a jigsaw.

many times i thought
that i could be able
to complete you.
but then, every single time
i try to piece you together
i always end up
blankly staring
at the jumbled up mess
i leave myself with.
now, i realize
that i endlessly try
to create things
that will never
have the slightest chance
of making sense to me.
maybe not yet.

the more i try
to understand you,
the more i ask myself
if you will be worth it
because i’ve spent
too many nights
and have wracked my brain
way too hard
trying to solve a code
that i know
i could never crack.