emotions are like fingerprints;

with twists and twirls;

unique indents.

so, saying that you’ve been there too

just doesn’t make the statement true.

overworked and underpaid.

clock in early, head home late.

shifting through shit day-to-day.

all ambition: grades of grey.

justified by money made.

ain’t that the ’merican way?

poor me.

i pour me

right into we

until empty.

not won.

we’re not one

so overcome;

our love’s undone.

i see.

my eyes see;

refuse to plead

or beg on knees.

hear now;

i’m here now.

i turned around

and stood my ground.

suddenly startled from slumber;

completely covered in cold sweat;

her head hangs heavy, hunched forward;

throat tied tightly, too tense to breathe;

panicked pulse with pins and needles;

chest clutched cchambers compressed.

something wild from which she awoke?

or wilderness that she woke to?

pathētikós,

subject to sensitivity.

full of feeling.

engulfed in emotion.

predecesor to pathetic.

so…

call me what you will;

and still

my will won’t waiver.

and we drove

with the windows cracked just so;

enough to hear the walls of waves;

enough to steal stray rays of light;

enough to breathe the blowing breeze

of the shore,

of the speed,

of your love over me.

we drove;

not to anywhere at all,

but to everywhere at once.

fields of flowery prose

being sowed to fill holes

in a muddied-down message

and windfalls of words.

but all you really need

is a handful of seeds;

go ahead and make messes

to make sure you’re heard.

a pseudo-scientific fact

(that i learned when I was 8):

it is impossible to drown

if you stop splashing,

lean back,

and let yourself rest on the waves.