I wonder what it feels like
To hold the world in your hands
And let it slip from your grasp

Suppose I'll never know

you wake up
his hair is spilled across the pillow,
the sun slants across his cheekbone
and his breath is slow and even.
he smells like an open field
and his body is wrapped around yours
so he keeps you warm.
you think,
there is no moment better than this,
that he is too perfect to exist.
but you wake up gasping,
skin soaked in sweat.
you lie there for a long time,
in your completely empty bed.

I love the way books have creases in the spines
that prove you have read them.

I love the way books can give you a story
but you get to decide how you interpret it

I love every time you read a book, no matter how many times you read it
you find something new that you have not recognized before

I love how books can make you laugh and cry
but how can relate to them more than anything

I love how books can inspire or discourage someone to do something
but either way it changed the way one thinks

I love how even in your darkest times
books offer an escape so you feel better about yourself

Books offer so much that I cannot
but I collect enough, maybe I soon will be able to

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.

I don’t have butterflies in my stomach when I see you.
I have an entire zoo.

My heart pounds to the song the birds are singing,
and to that song the monkeys are swinging.

My heart knows but my brain cannot decide,
Peacocks wish to flash their beauty and prairie dogs wish to hide.

Lions roar and snakes reach out to you
but I ignore them and the feeling too.

What is the point?
Was I just put here to sit through classes and
understand information I will never use?
I want to be useful
MEANINGFUL
Give me something to believe in
To be passionate about
That MATTERS
Not just to me
But the world
I want to leave something for when I die
So I can be remembered
So my life matters more than just barely outside myself
I need purpose.
I need meaning.
Because if I don’t
Why am I even here?