Everyday I ask myself,
“What am I doing with my life?”
And sometimes… I feel fear when the words escape my mouth–
Like they are running into the unknown,
Quickly being ripped away from me
Without giving an answer to the emptiness I am left with.
I meet a crisis everyday.
I ask myself when this anxious feeling will end
So I can begin again,
But I haven’t found the solace yet.
I haven’t discovered relief from the questions.
Today I ask myself,
“Am I a part of the living, or am I closer to death?”
Waiting for love is like
Waiting for warmth in December
Or for snow in the middle of summer–
It’s as consistent as the weather
And as simple as an atom,
Or a quiet explosion–
But I can’t seem to find it.
It’s raining and my mind
Is a blur of blue and green
And brown and black
Sitting next to you, I watch the windows reflect
The rain painting the panes,
And take your hands to dance.
I want to dance in the puddles
Until the earth stains our clothes
And covers our bodies.
I smell the freshness,
Feel the texture on my skin,
And let the coolness fall.
The rain falls.
But you catch me.
I am a part of this world,
And a part of yours,
So let’s dance in the puddles
Time seems to hide in my moments of clarity,
Like days will melt into years
With quiet mornings and him
Holding my hand
And drinking coffee.
But it is morning,
And I am alone.
His body is molded into a plastic chair
Learning coded messages
From pieces of technology
As he sends words to me
Through small screens and dying batteries.
I am sitting on the couch
Writing and planning for next week,
Imagining little voices calling out for me
To teach words and metaphors.
I am alone,
But in my dreams I will still have time to meet
And talk and laugh and listen.
I am alone,
But I hold him here.
I want us laughing over spilt coffee
Shuffling through a deck of cards
With our legs crossed.
I want that piece of sky
When last night becomes tomorrow morning
And our clothes try to hide
What we made in our memory.
I want our feet to cross over
The places that threatened our freedom.
I want the clock hands to get stuck
So we have more time to spend.
I want the papers and messages to cease
The overwhelming deadlines
So I can talk to you at night.
I want something to hold onto.
Like the days we take time to go for a drive,
Or when you take my hand and smile.
I want those days, and I want more nights—
I want us to remember the meaning of together.
That’s all I want.