How things went well between us. In fact, when we both realized that we were together all this time to witness the evening. You often described me as 'a playful sentiment' which kept on rallying in your heart. And this fondness, like iron and wine entailed a taste of softened beginnings, scented and aromatic: a pilgrim of flowers, which I was compelled to grasp you entirely and hold this charming memory before anything else would visit my mind. What a lovely evening, and the stars were all vibrant enlightening us, and while you were the only thing present in my eyes, it felt like a dream come true.

I learned about patience, though you ever seemed to sense frustration. I rediscovered hope, even when it seemed I could breathe only hopelessness. I trusted the next times, because I believe there'd be many. I acknowledged death, because that's how everything ends..

I no longer believe that deeply feeling everything is a curse; I hold more in one finger than most carry in their bodies and my inner world is brimming with cosmos and constellations that flame through the darkness

I haven't felt like myself lately; there are moments that I feel lost, afraid, fragmented, hopeless and abysmal but I do not feel ashamed for feeling intensely. I do not feel guilty, like I did before.

comfort is:
fleece-lined leggings
a soft pillow to rest my head
the soft hum of the fan’s forever spinning whir
an early dawn, for a few weeks
my pillow snuggled up next to me
health, freedom from being ruled by anxiety, understanding that sometimes sadness has to breathe too.

I see the horizon,

Once fiery red and passionate orange,

Decay into cold blue and numb black.

Hark the days of old times

Past; the energy that precedes

The inevitable twilight.

It was your movements and your touch.

The hugs where you gripped my shoulders.

The times when I was drunk and played with your fingers.

And to have heard you say ‘I love you’,

To me;

That’d make my head fuzzy,

Ears buzzing,

Vision go askew.

It would answer questions,

Ask some more.

And leave me with lost intentions.

Because I don’t know how I feel.

You don’t either.

Us, stuck in a maze

Of endless questions and fears and worries and

Excitement. Sending us into a craze.

But I’m left with one feeling,

That it’s upsetting,

Our sun setting,

And me praying for a sunrise.

I cry thinking about the weight of my heart's capacity, undeniably empathetic. Too open, too shut. The life chosen is always necessity, maybe we just have to find the honesty in that fact first?

seeking souls with throbbing vocabularies, bustling truths, undeniable emotional intelligence and transparent heartstrings.

do you remember the end of your childhood, that last bike ride around the block, the place in the woods everyone would gather, the feel of youth upon your sleepy head on a summer morning as you ran to play, friends waiting impatiently as you wolfed down a bowl of fruit loops.

sorry I was quiet when you expected me to say some socially accepted ******* it's just that I was talking to myself you started asking boring questions about trivial things and I wanted to finish the conversation more than I wanted to act like a a normal human being.

kind and honest conversations that create the space for difficult truths without killing spirits or paralyzing hearts

you were told you were getting more than most so you should feel special, except you weren’t really getting much more than almost nothing.