Why are you so sad, dear?
What burdens tug on your heart?
Draw tears from your kind eyes...
Why are you aching?
I can feel it in my soul

You’re not well, my love
Come here
I’ll hold you for a bit
Wrap you in a warm embrace
Feel the consistency of my heart
Feel the strength in my arms
Let me carry it all for a stretch
You don’t have to do it all alone

Though I know you can, my warrior

But I can't watch you do this
Destroy yourself
Slowly, subtly
I've noticed
And it makes me very afraid

Despite what you believe, darling
You are really quite lovely
Your presence a treasure

You are exquisite

Sweetheart, just rest for a bit
Can you do that for me?
Sit with me
Tell me everything on your mind
Release every tear you've been hiding
I'll just listen
I'll just be here with you
Until you're alright

And with Silence
we learn



the true meaning of Death

In the dream i run toward dead ends
that resemble concrete fists;
and we know that ghosts can only walk through walls
because they’re empty
but you’ll find creases on your bed sheets
just as vacant.
And the impression people leave behind
is something you will always take to bed
when the little yellow-lit squares in
those tall city boxes meant more than just
“other”.
and so what if we feel too much?
they say one word can stand a chance
in changing an entire meaning
and so what if we feel too much, despite
— the coffee that had gotten cold
or the pillow-stitched manifestos
that were only ever meant for display
or the flimsy dots in the sky
we’ve yet to make sense of.
Your vulnerability is no one else’s
needle felt ball.
Do not hide it like baby teeth,
do not trim your sharp edges
for their butterknife.
Do not pick out
the quiet statice petals
just because you’ll never have to
worry about seeing the fracture
when you’re gazing down
at an entire field.
"why has empathy become a relic?", she asks.
"i guess that's just how it is now."
it shouldn't.
it shouldn't.
it shouldn't.