I live my life through the words I write
Sometimes
I dream in memories
of you, and me,
and the toxicity surrounding us.
I dream
of my naivete,
the youthful, innocent, optimism I held
even for you.
I dream
of what I chose to see
and lived for.
I dream in memories
because sometimes
they hurt less than reality.
Short-lived recognition,
if you can call it that,
of believing I know you from somewhere
and hoping
you recognize me too.
But just in case you don’t
I’ll dart my eyes away
before we know for sure.
Opportunity
has come knocking at my door.
Summon bravery.
Everyone has rough days
days they wish no one would ever see
and maybe
it works out that you don’t see those days
for them
but they see those days
for you.
You cannot see a person
for brief moments of time
and believe you know everything about them.
If I can embody
myself
what I have created for her,
maybe
I can reclaim the connection
to her
I feel, in fear, I have lost.
All I can do
is listen to my body
listen to her screams and shouts
her whimpers and protests
her laughter and joy
her inhales and exhales.
If I listen
she will tell me what I need to know.
It tastes good in the moment
a perfect fit into all the right receptors
to provide comfort,
and love.
More must be better than a little
so indulge,
and comfort it will continue,
until it’s gone.
When you’re left, at the end,
feeling unlovable,
love yourself the hardest, then.
How far down the tunnel can we go
in search of a label, a name, anything,
to classify how we’re feeling?
The changes I could make,
the differences I dream of having
already lie in opportunity’s wake,
here,
waiting for me to give them a try
here,
where I am.
The one second I chose
to glance out the window
was the same second
you chose to land on the branch.
I immediately wonder
what meaning you bring,
what hidden message you carry,
what I’m destined to interpret.
You make me think of him.
Maybe
it was only coincidence.
A magnificent coincidence.
Dawning Words 