Why do we want to keep each other caged?
Why is it a norm for us to feel pain after a separation?
The only way to love you is to set you free. No. Not physically.
I set you free when the thought of you doesn't burden my heart.
I set you free when I understand that what we did was an act of love coated with our human needs.
I set you free when I leave out of love.
I set you free when I know that by leaving, I love myself and only by loving myself can I love you.
I set you free when I believe that you have freed me of you the day you first laid your eyes on me.
I set you free when I understand that freeing someone is letting go of our needs that we hang on to so effortly.
I set you free when you are no longer a need.
I set you free so I can be free.
I'm starved of fear and hopelessness, I'm out of touch with my truest happiness. Numbly feeding my soul sorrow. It is easy to be controlled when you have no clue its happening. My thoughts are telling me to follow my heart, and let it drive me to peace. Take care of your true happiness and cherish it, because it is the only thing you seek in your time of breath. Let it take you to the air you wish to inhale, a atmosphere you can soak yourself in. Reach for the guide within yourself, let it pull you to a place where your soul dances freely. A place when the breeze brings you safety, a place when you can breath and let the warm earths love overwhelm your body. A place where your heart beats to the earths music, a place where your skin dances with the rain.
Ever since I set myself free from you, mentioning your name was a burden to me
So I decided to push you way way down into oblivion
But here you are, defying black holes, making surface
Because I need to talk to you, I need to talk about you
Because you were indescribable, and you still are
And I need to know who you are and why you were and why you stayed and why me and what did it feel like
I have too many questions for you
I have too many unspoken thoughts
And I have no one but myself to narrate them to
After 6 months of muted thoughts
Here I am, willing to finally accept healing
Whether you decide to listen or not
Yes, I know that some nights I cross your mind and I know you still love me - with all the concepts you assign to that feeling, to which I don't necessarily agree, but I do think about you as well, and love you my way, not yours.
You might carry me with you forever. I hope you will. I hope my home in you has a garden planted with flowers, with a beautiful little home and a nice veranda to sit there with you in the sun whenever you visit me.
I will carry you with me, until I'm old and senile and start to forget everything, even my sons' names, but not you.
Your home in me now is surrounded by thorn wires, but the day will come when the war will be over and I'll plant you a garden full of trees to shade you.
As for now, I'm accepting my war, because you are the war.
run across the orange shorelines where the greatest empires have fallen,
and kiss the waves of the salty sea in hopes of resting your clumsy pulse and frivolous thoughts.
stretch your legs.
lithe up like a prideful little boy before a rigged game of 'the floor is lava'
run like your laces will never untie and your loaded veins will never misfire.
run through the realms of yellowing pages you cling to,
full of ball-point metaphors and crisp, eloquent descriptions of the beautiful feelings you've trained yourself to hate along the way.
i beg you to get over-friendly with your paintbrush when we reminisce this time.
full-fledged, snot-nosed, scared-shitless-grinned
run to silky cotton bedding drenched in the stench of your maladaptive daydreams;
peppered with layers of insight we've yet to discover,
and two cold pillows
that can never seem to sing your static head to sleep or fully embrace the weight of your bruised shoulders.
run like you can feel for once;
like a curious kid who's never seen a map or compass,
he just zigs and zags through the seemingly endless wildflowers at full speed as he pilots the backyard in pure and sincere bliss.
run to sun-drenched golden fields where the night sky tints itself blue to succumb to its favorite shade of darkness,
and your breath settles low on the tips of the tall grass like the fog growing over a prehistoric low-land,
and the stars twinkle like lake-thrown pebbles about to let you decrypt the gleaming secrets they hold...
and everything comes clear
like it's the only thing you've ever known,
run until you reach me.