will you?

and then the golden droplets of light - the rivers running through my window - they reminded me: we are not the same. we could be, but we will not, for your fear of letting the world see your heart will keep you from beauty.

to feel everything or nothing at all. (a version of to be, or not to be, in the terms of the colors echoing on the horizon and the coffee sitting in your cup). the question begins to fade as the concept of not marveling at every sunrise becomes a thought pictured in a foreign language that i no longer wish to understand.

feel it.

please let yourself feel absolutely all of it. how could you not notice your heart reaching for the stars when you stare at the blood red moon? how could you not long for your soul to shoot the breeze with this coolness nipping at the very tip of your ears, biting. teasing. commandingly pleading for you to come along. how could you not stand in awe of the steam mixing with the essence of the earth, fading into nothing, no, fading into everything in a moment more fleeting than time. how could you not let yourself love all of the things that make this world worth living in?

do you listen to the melodies that float languidly through the air? do you let the notes both anchor you to the moment and make your mind float somewhere: another world that eyes of this one are blind to. twisted greys and incoherent thoughts tangle in a mess of vines, growing as the day moves along. they crawl, yearning, but their despair is like the soft grip of a hand, pressing against your throat. angry, and in love.

“i dont know how to say this to you,” but the strums echo all of which would otherwise be left unsaid. words are powerful, and creative. but even greater is knowing how best you speak. how will you tell the moon that you love her, and you wish to take lessons on exactly how she best reflects the sun? how will you say to the girl with the wide blue eyes that her soul shines and the cracks in her shell just allow the light to paint angel hair on the walls of the room in which she cries? how will you acknowledge the leaves that dance in the breeze, knowing that the only purpose they serve is to live like nothing matters at all. but, everything does.

so will you say it?

(will you say the things that remind us that life is short but moments are long and we are meant to live them, both as if we will live forever, and die tomorrow).