Not the kind of love Where I say I love you And let you meet my family Or maybe exactly that kind of love A love like raindrops? That, as fast as I run away from it I cannot escape it
I want never ending night skies But I’m obsessed with sunshine Especially when it’s raining Am I my own paradox of eternal delights? If I am, I think I’m doing a good job of Whatever this is, for once
I really really like holding on to the past At this point, my wall is choking On movie tickets and pictures But I keep thumbtacks By my bed anyway Just in case I need to remember something new That I didn’t forget in the short walk From desk to window
It’s not being sentimental, I think It’s being “sometimes I forget who I am so how do I know I won’t forget how happy feels or how my best friends laugh like sunshine?”
But let’s call it sentimental because I have a real love-hate relationship with labels
I am the least organized person I know But I’m constantly labeling people It’s touch and go, this metaphorical game of tag Friend, lover, enemy, acquaintance These labels aren’t permanent The fingerprints on my skin wash off like chalk in a rainstorm
And let me tell you I am enamoured with rainstorms Because when I don’t have an umbrella They seem to feel a hell of a lot like love