They will never know our struggle
They will never know how to empathize
With our extreme abundance of feelings
We have so many words living on our tongue that sometimes
We almost choke trying to swallow them down
Therefore
We are constantly spitting them on to paper
And our journal entries look more like convulsions made by spasms of the hand
Than they do legible anything
But that's alright
We keep our heart in a metal flask
Open just enough to let the air seep in
Ready at all times to pour it out to anyone with open hands
Sometimes to the point of emptiness
Too many times do we leave ourselves with nothing
Having given so much of us to someone
Caution is not something we proceed with
Rather
Speed and recklessness
Blind optimism with eager motion
We are not capable of waiting
We are the ones who romanticize too soon
Fantasize in the most unsettling ways
We are the antagonists of our own stories
Yet we seem to always be searching for a happy ending
We are the wide eyed wanderers
The shy bodies built with open arms
Now and then
Love poems will escape from our fingertips
Never to reach their destination
Our memories are books we reread over and over again
Films that we replay just to remind us how it felt to feel
Our senses our heightened to the point where touch
Becomes crucial
And emotions
Become visible
We are the people
That you do not want to fall in love with
Because once we do
We will never
Fall out.