here i am
with you.
here i am
faking a smile.

i wish that just once
you would look at me
for who i am,
not the one with a mask.

here you are
with me.
here you are
joking.

you look at me
with your enchanting eyes.
you smile at me
with your crooked grin.

all we do is joke.
all we do is fake.
i wish that one-day
we can go beyond that.

maybe you don't love me.
maybe we're nothing more
than friends,
than acquaintances.

you're with her,
not me.

here i am,
alone...

It's raining.

We are, according to society and this grand world that we live in: Nothing.

Compared to the greatest of Gods and vastness of universes, we are not even able to completely understand how we are not even the dust in the wind.

How we might matter so little to the world.
And at the same time, how little the world can matter to us.

But what about us?

What about us is so special?

Why do we fight for our legacy? Why do we try so hard that it hurts? Why do we care?

Well...

Why the hell not?

It is just so easy to disregard that as an answer?

Maybe the reason, we don't accept "why not?" as an answer it because it's so simple.

It is so easy to just say that something is because well.... it is!

But we overcomplicate that. We try to justify everything in its complexity and we find plot holes, or evidence of a crime, something to praise or blame for the answer to "Why?".

I stopped asking that question simply because there isn't a point to asking a question you already know the answer to.

So again, now that I know why we do things the way we do...
What is so special about us being like that?

I see you, you know.
I see everything.
I pay attention to the small things.
And I write about the details when you don't care to notice them yourself.

I do this in order to earn the title of "Poet" but I don't have the goods to back it up yet.

Yet...

I see you.
And I also see us.
I see the suffering that we go through, and try to make sense of it.
I see a car, and picture the destination.
I see a sign, and imagine the paint still drying.
I see myself, and I am left speechless at what could've happened to me, and what I was lucky enough to get, assuming that I got something good.

And I mean, that's true because I had you for a time.

Promises can be empty.
Friend circles can be full.
Text messages can be messy, but I can translate.
And my words will always make absolutely no sense.

You are everything.
And so am I.
We can not be insignificant, or overlooked if we are this present.

Your smile could probably build another universe where we aren't so small in comparison to everything.

And I will never overlook that.

Because every good thing about us is still true.
Why?
Like I told you, it exists... it is.

So... why not?

Is our friendship over?
If so that's okay. I know
people come and go
But I don't want to let
Something meant to be to
Leave when it's in my power
To change. If the door is closed
I can accept that and move on
But if the door is still open
And your hand is still on this side
I will gladly grab it and hold on.
Something pulls me to the door,
Some thought, some intuition,
That wants to see. Something that wants
To know if the door really is closed.
Something tells me it is not.
So here I am, at the door,
Looking for your hand.