the bleakest of courage is still courage.

so i learn again, to not shed tears in front of the world
for the poorest part of my soul
because i should appreciate the sun
and watch it glow even though
it hurts my eyes, strain my neck and
burn the forefront of my thoughts that are striving to be seen
under the overpowering glare of the big star of hope.

the world is blind to what i have to offer
with my nothing and everything.

it is the beginning of something that i
spend days hiding under the covers from,
and now i watch it open slowly,
then rapidly, growing,
like the earthquakes they never expected
until next month.

the days settle like flour,
thick and tasteless, like the texture
of my mind, like the depths of my eyes when i catch my reflection.

i believe you mean the best
and nothing less, when you push me off the cliff of my emotions,
so i can learn to claw at the rocks, to want,
to live,
to survive the abyss you have caught me looking down at
over and over,
but i wasn’t ready for the push
when i had leaned backwards
into your support.

i dangle, at the edge of the world,
and i cannot say i am scared anymore
for i do not dare for anyone to listen anymore
because well, it’s just a fucking scary situation isn’t it?
so deal with it.

learn to be happy, in your own ways,
in your old ways,
in the ways that killed you and brought you back to life,
learn it, breathe it, live it, cherish it.
this happiness,
spoken of like a myth, like
a powerful spell, is here
under my grip,
but if i clench any tighter,
i will watch it erupt and disintegrate,
so i have to learn to hold on loosely
and adapt.

i wish you could understand that
behind my moulding, decaying walls that everybody claim is made of steel
i also protect this parcel of pain weighing me down on my other hand
for i cannot leave something that is made of glass
purely to gravity.

so i learn again to build the walls
and not say a word.
i sing silly songs to drown the discord of my heart breaking,
and despite the ache of knowing everybody would rather
fix the fixable and
shy away from the one that truly need it,
i forgive them, and turn to silence too,
like them,
for i understand why they’d rather listen to the easier answers
to their accidentally profound questions.
How are you?
i am ephemeral, impermanent, transcendental
and alive.

suddenly,
everybody are strangers
so i decide to connect with the
effervescence of the moon and step in its craters,
for the strangers point and gaze from all of the world, in togetherness,
with the knowledge that they will
never be able to touch it.

but you touched me.

you are my astronaut, my spaceman,
but maybe it is time you yearned to
take flight from this lonely orbit?

i can make things right,
but it is time and nothing else,
that is so precious to me,
but keeps being pulled away from under my stand when i
find some balance again.

i freefall,
fast and wild,
into the gush of self-repairment,

because i have to,
                        for who?
because i have to,
                        for who?
because i have to,
                        for who?
for you?
            for me?
                        for her?
for him?

when i just really want to,
find time,
to want to,
for myself.

what is this world for
and what is my excuse for being alive?
what is yours?
and yours?

and yours?

all i ask for is time
but the world keeps turning
but they all keep turning
but you keep turning
around
and
away
around
and
away
around
and
away.

all i ask for is time,
in an impatient world.

i remember the beautiful days
when the sun kissed your hair
and lived in your eyes,
the way you looked at me.

i remember the beautiful days
when you promised me
all of what i now only
occasionally see,
when you rested your mind on the curve of my thigh.

i remember the beautiful days
when i listened to our heartbeats
come together under your skin
as i fell asleep on your chest,
bare, just for me.

i remember the beautiful days
when i could shed my skin and bones
and still feel like the queen of your heart.

i remember it all,
and want so much for you to find the trust you
and the world have lost in me,
because my excuse to be alive,
is that things that are broken
can always find pieces that fit.