Life is hard. Everything weighs you down. It makes trudging through the plasma miasma that is the quotidian. You are born, you attempt to thrive, and then die. The weight of responsibility bends your back as soon as you graduate high school and real life sets in. You go to war. You work in a cubicle. You serve food quickly. You fail. You live in your car. You eat ramen noodles. Nothing ever really lines up.

There is something out there that will make everything better though. In space, all your troubles become weightless and drift from your back. Life becomes simply drifting, in no particular direction, only as you creep between the greedy gravity pull from distant planetary bodies and stars.

Don't give up, give in, or give out too much. You're one in seven billion. We need you.

Nothing by itself weighs anything

It takes another's gravity to pull

upon you and give you weight

Without each other,

we would just be a mess of mass

floating between the faraway stars

we imperceptibly reflect

So hold onto

or only ever drift near

those who attract you most

They take your hollow little heart

and make the heavy happen

I can't see:

my eyes are

encrusted

with your

honeycomb lies

and no amount

of saltwater

can wash away

the words

you've said to me.

I can't smell:

pine forests

and the ocean air

fill my lungs

but no matter

how many times

I create a forest fire

or pollute the illusion

of a blue sky

I can't smoke out

the sickeningly sweet stench

of what we used to be.

I can't taste:

I've glided my tongue

over the curve of

my coffee mug

but no amount of

bitter heat

or sugar and cream

can reset the pop-rocks

going off

inside of me.

I can't feel:

I've pulled away

the layer of skin

you caressed

like an orange peel

but I made the mistake

of letting you touch

every inch of me

and now red wine

and strawberry vines

pour from me

and I've involuntarily

left a trail

so now you know

right where to find me.

I can't hear:

you whispered

of waking up

to Rome's sunlight

and sleeping under

Paris' speckled sky

but your empty

promises

are left among

the ruins under the sea

and no amount of

vanilla scented dreams

will cause me to

once again believe

you're anything more

than a snake in the

Garden of Eden.

The smell of rose water and coconut linger still in your hair and I long to run my hands through to press my lips upon the nape of your neck and breathe in your scent for eternity to look into the bottom of the ocean all while staring right into your eyes move your palms against my body as if you need this to stay alive pull me in your arms and whisper the truths of the universe into my ear while stopping in between words to kiss my cheek and catch my tears with the curve of your bottom lip rake your hands through my disheveled hair and pull me in closer, closer than possible maybe it’s cliché but I just want to be one with you don’t take a single second for granted please I need you here I need to know you’ll stay here with me even if I push you away maybe some day I’ll push you against a wall and kiss you on the mouth and temple and neck instead of pushing you out the door I need your love and your voice so don’t abandon all hope while I’m standing right in front of you so make your choice but before you do would it be against the rules to tell you i love you I’m not saying this in an attempt to guilt your love I just don’t want you to slip through my hands as the ocean did when I tried to make it stay on my skin for the rest of my life if I told it I loved it too do you think it would’ve made a difference do you think it could have grown to love me too but i don’t want this to work if all our embraces are hesitant or if you think of the one you truly love while kissing me each morning do what you want my love just know I do love you so do what you think best and follow your heart but tell me gently for I fear by this time tomorrow I will have fallen apart

We all are born naked and completely devoid of all but what our senses tell us. From that point on everything is up for grabs and is entirely dependent on how we are raised to be, and how our needs are met.

Ignore a crying child and it will cry all the more lustily, give it a slap and it learns of violence. It's all up for grabs.

Look closely at who you are and see your upbringing.

the underside of my pride is drifting somewhere past the waves towards starlight and I'm breathing in the gusts of wind the backbreaking bend of green wooden ships and rolling pins making blackberry pie out of midnight sweetened by kisses stolen between strawberries smooth like honey and cinnamon