I see the quiet strength that is you—
Your courage, your spirit, rough edges and all,
And how in your presence, I find myself content to stand unguarded.
No pretenses, no lofty speeches—only the bare pulse of our truth.

We are the same
But different
Made up of the same parts
Yet unique
In our different pieces
And when we crumble
We crumble differently

With blood for ink
I write
Until I'm drained
And then
The epilogues follow

This is the story of my life.

And if you think
that finding true love,
and keeping it,
is the hardest thing you've ever done,

try losing it.

I once had an acquaintance
Who lived like their world
Only had days
Devoid of shadows
And the nights were sparse
So that everything they touched,
Felt and breathed
Was buried in positivity
And love and light.

Take for example
If a meteorite
Was to fall right in front of them
They'd probably say
"oh what a disaster
The world is ending
It can't be helped
We did our best"
And then
They would just laugh
Like they have forever conquered
Despair.

I could never understand it
I couldn't stand it
But I respected it
As much as I despised it

We build walls around us and call it home
And why not, that's where we feel safe and secure
But we struggle when the facade fades
And feel alone and why not
A wall around us is still a wall
And while we sometimes act like home is a decision
It's more than safety and comfort
It's about community,
About risks and risk taking
Without which we could never experience the adventure that is life

Sometimes I want
To be a Sheep;
Spend all day eating
And sleeping –
And "oh but they die"
Isn't a great retort
If you aren't immortal