I got my first comment and repost on one of my poems
I do not know why I cried
thank you for showing appreciation
it is the first time my tears actually hugged me instead of stinging.

between the painful ****** of nostalgia from the past
and the hugs and dreams of fantasies from the future
there’s no room for you to live here
maybe if I evict my equivocal feelings
and start thinking less and saying more
at least you would have something you would want to respond too
without just replying to me out of pity
maybe then you would move back into my present
silly of me to think i could even pause time for a second
but I swear when i’m with you it’s like the world moves slower
but now I sit on top of the ordinary
and the world still spins without you here
the sun sets a little earlier
the birds still flock in sync, how they did yesterday
everything is still the same, but i look at the so normal world
with wistful eyes.
and i’ve drowned myself in sentimentality
not because I don’t know how to swim, but I just choose not too.
and as I navigate through this world without my muse
with potential as an artist, with dreams of a time traveler
I pray to stars and ask for a split second just to be with you again.

it begins as a song in my head
and i flow with the rhythm of love
until the lyrics become harder to hear
and the beat starts to fade away
i cant catch the rhythm anymore
and then there’s a ringing in my ear
and suddenly you pop into my head
and there’s not enough love songs in the world
that could express how i feel about you
that i dont feel myself 10x more.

there’s no doubt that my brain reminds me
of your existence by the second
i won’t deny the fact that i take you everywhere with me
without you being there
i wake up and i open my eyes
just to feed into the memory of your face
you know i could tell you so many things
you know how i am with words, how articulate i become when the topic is you
but imagine the things i cannot tell you
the things i wish i could express so bad
im not afraid in following my heart
my heart is what i always speak from.
but my soul..
....she doesn’t have a way of communicating
the grief just sits there and swallows her whole
my soul sits in my body, cold.
it’s easy to guide my heart away from you.
but how do i tell my soul to stop searching
if she could talk to you i’d doubt it would change anything
but it will prove that you will always be loved.

if you were to put your best memories on a scale alongside your worse
both holding the same intensity
neither more impactful than the other.
your worse memories will still outweigh the most positive ones.
we as humans are sadly inclined to internalize the negative
we are persistent to recall the bad over good
you can have a basket full of good apples
and still throw it away because of one that is rotten.
how many good birthdays can you remember?
how many times can you recall yourself crying as a child rather than laughing?
how much do you remember?
and how many times will you keep trying to forget?
avoidance is temporary and accepting it means that hurt from remembering is permanent.
being numb is growing tolerant.
how much do you want to forget?
dwelling on things that can't change, won't change anything.
this defense mechanism gives importance to negative experiences
and I begin to find myself always remembering
then here comes the self questioning
becoming cautious
always looking over my shoulder.
I remember never liking myself because of what others put me through
I remember never having the strength to tell myself different.
Instead of asking how much I remember
I think of what I know.
I know that these experiences do not define me but shape me.
I know that if you never remember who you are
you will always see yourself with the eyes of others
and everything you've been put through.
if you were to put what you know on a scale alongside with what you remember
both holding the same intensity and impact
depending on what you truly know instead of what you think
depends on if it outweighs what you remember.