When I look back over my life
Many pieces of the puzzle fall into place
I often use the word seasons in my writing
And this is not even a poem for that matter
But I've come to know that darkness accentuates light
A strange sense of destiny
Opposites that work together towards one goal
Something that needs to be achieved or completed
My whole life through this has chased me
When I was a child I enjoyed making soup
Wooden spoon in hand stirring the broth
The sole of my right foot up against my left ankle
I must have looked like a ballerina
My mother seated at the kitchen table
I heard her giggling from behind
I turned to her and asked "why are you laughing"
She replied "the way you're standing and the enjoyment you get from making soup"
I uttered "do you know that I'm going to achieve something great someday"
She asked "where did that come from"
I responded "I don't know"
She said "so be it"

There is no point in living this life unless you find someone or something to love. A person who you would want to spend the rest of your life with or an occupation that you are passionate about.

Ironically, the famous song of Bon Jovi is also true --- too much love will **** you. But maybe, this should be seen from a love recipient's perspective.

We all want to feel loved. Especially when everything else hates you --- like Math, music, or your very own biological family who you live with under one small **** roof --- finding love is really just a lucky event. However, it will soon overwhelm you.

You would think that you do not deserve the joy and happiness that you feel when you are with this person. Soon, you will think that he is too good for you. You might also think, "Why would he even want to spend more time with me when I am such a mentally unstable, emotionally broken, and pitifully toxic *****?"

Be careful what you wish for. One might not be ready to receive the love that is being given to us. It feels as if it's ******* life and love from this dearest person and you have nothing to give. This person is so full of love and you are full of filth (well, at least you are not nothing). And it feels you with guilt that you can never make the person feel the same. Soon, you would think that he would walk away --- the best person with the kindest heart, the best love of your life, the ******* best --- because you have ****** and licked clean his jar of love and you gave nothing in return. Funny thing is that you don't even ask for him to love you. He just does. And that becomes more painful than ever.

Having that thought in mind makes you just want to leave to prevent the heartache and the burn out which the love of your life will suffer from. But you do not have the strength to break up with him because that kind of blow would be too hard that you would painfully hurt him. It seems as if having him burned out is the better way to "break up" with him because at least you think that it would be his decision to leave. It gives you this sick comfort that he left and you have confirmed your filthy self-concept. You have confirmed how undeserving you are and proved that you are the worst person to be with him.

But, he still stays. He still stays despite all your filth being thrown at his clean self. You have shown most of your darkest thoughts and he still chooses to stay. And it hurts you more because it would now be too hard to break up with him and hurt him because now you care more and this person has become the person who is preventing you to quit life. He is a hindrance between your wrist and that small, sharp blade that will surely deliver what you think you deserve. You clearly still do not have the strength to let him go that quickly (sick selfish wimp).

Now, you are stuck with a dilemma and all you can do is cry your eyes out. It's the only cathartic way that will allow you live another day for him until the day he gives up. It seems chaotic now. Everything else is falling apart this one man stands in the midst --- all clean and smiling --- offering you a nicer future. You are not sure whether to take the hand or the blade.

But, tonight, you take the hand yet you keep the blade in your pocket. Now, you carry it around while you walk with him hand in hand. And now, you just made your situation almost impossible to solve.

The whispers of flesh on flesh
The pressure of you
The slide of fingers down my neck
The breath against a crook
The warmth radiating between us
The blood rushing
The hand on my back
The contact

on a highway lined with palm trees
seated next to each other in the car
he was upset
i wanted to put my hand out
for him to hold,
    for him to be comforted
but i did nothing
and we rode in silence

The curve of her jaw
Does not fit into
The palm of my hand
Like yours did.

Yesterday night,
as I was crossing the
bridge of the past,
your name was
barely floating underneath,
I looked at it as it was
half submerged,
half breathing,
and my hand didn't reach out for it,
instead, it reached out for my heart,
listened to its beats,
they said walk to the end of the bridge,
and I did,
my hand reached for my hair and cut
two strands to make a ribbon to tie the past,
you loved my hair after all,
didn't you?

I'm not trying to over complicate
Something so simple
As holding a hand.
I have seen too many friends
Strip down until they are completely covered in
Vulnerability.
And watch the person they trust
Take what they want
And treat it as a joke.
This I have decided that the gateway to my trust
Will always be closed.
I'm quick for a kiss
But awfully slow
For holding your hand.