yexy

This is a love poem. My heart is filling with memories and hope and they are quivering, vibrating down through my veins to my nails and pouring out through my thumbs like my tongue would release if it were not midnight in a quiet house on a Tuesday. There is love in every room. There is pain as well undersurface and under skin but there are hugs and kind words and bonds and they are a hell of a lot more useful than one might think when it comes to not feeling like you are nothing. There is promise of tomorrow and even more to find, more to discover and learn and I wouldn't trade a single day of this adventure for a solid mediocre normal be

The wheels on the bus go round and round, pausing five minutes in each little town, endless fields turning gold as the sun goes down I'll be there soon. Passing big rigs and cars and small town bars, chasing trains, watching planes in the clouds make temporary scars Counting houses, counting road signs, counting passengers, counting songs Pick up my book and put it down again; it won't really be that long. Tapping feet, glowing wheat, endless white lines Check my bag, check my phone, rest my head, close my eyes Open them, count the cows, count the grain bins, hum a tune, itch my nose, adjust my posture, stretch my toes, change the song

I am water that has been filling Jars and bowls as needed Changing shape and making room Careful not to spill But I am a river; I am a sea I am the deep ocean blue Crashing waves upon the shoreline I am bursting with solitude I want to know my own currents My own reefs, my own salt I want to carve patterns in the rocks And shape my bed how I like it.

There are sparks in my blankets and flashes behind my eyes and storms in my stomach and I can't sleep again. I can't cry but the nightmares are back, reminding me of everything I do wrong and leaving me with a sense of oceandeep loss when I wake. There are new people disappointed in me every night and I always do something to lose them. There is hope on the horizon, I swear. I know that I will be okay in time, but I don't know how long it will take and I am not okay right now. I wish I could cry and get it over with. I just... I was doing so well.

I found a room in the pauses between my promises The walls are a pale yellow There is an open window with a view of a grass rippled ocean And a bed with a single soft pillow That is all, nothing more but a breeze blowing through-- I don’t stay here enough, in this space in between All the promises that I make to you.

I walked to work this morning. Early, so early, long before the sun, I left my front door and for once my eyes and ears were wide open. I heard nothing but the soft crunch of new snow underfoot, my path the first to venture out--well, not quite. There was also a trail from the neighborhood cat. To my delight I found horfrost covering every appendage of my caragana bush; every thorn shimmering. The dirty yellow streetlight somehow looked more golden folded in with all that glitter. My eyes drank in every fence picket, every tree as I walked a little more slowly. As I got closer to my destination I noticed... the frost coated a cardboard

Please tell me that the wait is worth all this, that the time I have spent here is not wasted Tell me I have done good in this world during my blip of existence That my words have meant something, that I have mattered Tell me that all my grand deeds have in fact, saved me from the darkness, and the nothing That love is real, and not just co-dependant validation Tell me that feeling things means that I am living and I will always feel them and I will never become calloused and cold Tell me that I will figure out how to be okay, even though it is strange to me Tell me how to float above the labyrinth and and see all of my existence from sunrise