at times, i wish i hadn't learned to love so much.

there is always a lingering weight in my chest;
my heart, already fragile enough,
fights to carry it through every waking moment.

hellos are my favorite things, but they're merely precursors
to the poison of goodbyes, to the sickness of loneliness
and the yearning to be elsewhere
in other places, with certain people.  

tears fall as quickly as grins go from ear to ear,
roaring laughter easily fades into deafening silence,
and this wishy-washy soul is one i could never get a hold of.

but what would i be without love,
without the burden of feeling?
what would i be without the days spent day dreaming,
the moments i run out of breath
from gushing about people and moments,
the nights spent crying all alone,
and being vulnerable to the world,
but feeling the best of it anyway?

i love, but i hurt.
i hurt, but i love.
and that is all that matters.

i tell you: this day is clean.
this day, the fear does not claim me,
and i take it with both hands and let nothing control me.
it does not rain, it does not storm,
it does not burn, it does not scorch.
instead, the sun rises kindly
and the wind kisses this home of mine
and the clouds give me space to breathe.
i tell you, i tell you:
my heart still beats.

i'll pick the blues that you carry
in your heart like flowers.

let's crawl up trees like Morning Glory vines
so we can watch the world, just us two.

let's make our hearts burst into petals
with all the love we can give to each other.

let's sway with the wind like fields of Dandelions,
let's dance the pain away
even though i have two left feet.

let's be flowers,
let's love tenderly and beautifully,
and heal our torn leaves
under the light of the sun.

look: i am trembling fingers again.
own pulse keeping me captive.
i think i locked up the dragon of my heart some time ago,
i think i threw away the key—
and now she is burning all my ribs up just to get free.

wonder: how did i ever come to this.
i have thought of death often enough that it no longer scares me.  
i tried to keep the worst of that locked up too, see,
but sometimes the whispers will slither out.
they run in and out my brain
like the ghosts of all i could have been.

see: i have thought of death often enough that it doesn't frighten me,
doesn't make me flinch no more—
at least,
not the way the shaking always does,
always a surprise, a shockwave,
all my old worries and fears and doubts and panic
coming back to bury me,

and it is as though
i have long since drowned.

i am a silent soul,
forget about me, if you must.

but one day you'll wake up
to find my bed made, but empty.
i will be off to nowhere,
but i will get everywhere.

i'll scatter myself from the sky like ashes,
i'll fall like the rains of July,
i'll kiss mountain tops like the snow of December,
i'll drift around like the golden leaves of October,
and i will be left to the wind.

i will no longer be a soul
trapped in this cage of flesh and bones,
i will run through the world,
writing post cards about all i will see and do,
but sending them to nobody.

doe-eyed darling illuminated in stage lights,
schoolboy wanderer with ambition,
devil-may-care child of Adonis—
you are an artist in every breath and movement,
your voice is music in itself,
you turn your struggles into rhyme and reason,
your thoughts are a mirage of pastels,
you are unreal, a canvas upon which
youth paints its wonders on

you are so in love with the world,
every night i look to the stars
and hope the universe lets you see as much of it as you please

*and oh, how i'd love to be by your side through it all

it's all okay,
it's all alright,
finally.

things get weird,
it gets bad,
suddenly.

there's no reason why,
things get me down,
quickly.

i don't know,
i don't understand,
how this goes.

things get better,
then they fall apart for no reason,
and it all goes to ****.