sixty four days ago I met this person,
she talked about how her world was stained glass,
constantly changing colors splits by streaks of grey,
like her emotions changing with oh so little class.
You see this person has social anxiety
she told me that the reason she ran outside when it rained
was so the water droplets could keep her company
those little spherical drops mixing with the tears from her eyes
so that if a passerby would happen to see her there
they’d think the water on her skin was merely the water from the sky.
forty four days ago I kissed this person
she warned me about the terrors that would come,
I told her that I’d stand against those demons
like Finn stands against Ice Kings ice rays
That I’d take her sorrows wrap them up in newspaper
tape it closed, kiss it,
and send them on a first class boat cruise to the land of disappear.
twenty four days ago she said that she loved me,
she told me she felt her stained glass was clearing,
that she hadn’t felt this safe in many phases of the moon,
and she told me that I kept on being surprising.
four days ago she called me crying,
said her world was crumbling like a sandcastle fighting high-tide,
that her mind was slipping into the rabbit hole
and the cheshire cat had plenty of holes in which for him to hide
she reminded me that she has social anxiety
yesterday it rained,
and I ran outside with her to keep her company
