i feel wrung out

yet full

bereft

and yet whole

it is not bad

to be a paradox

to feel like a wave

and yet like a rock

dissolving yet steadfast

smooth but not soft

on the shore to be found

in the waves to be tossed

to know humanity is beauty

but it's hard to comprehend

how a life can somehow hold

a beginning, an end,

and a beginning again.

i always wondered what it would feel like

to fall in love

and have someone love you back

completely, wholeheartedly,

without hesitation

and now i know.

how beautiful is that?

to know what love is

what it feels like

i have been dreaming my whole life

of a love that looks and feels like

the words of my favorite book

the scenes in my favorite movie

the tune of my favorite song

i finally found that love

and it’s you!

it’s you, my love

you are my foundation

the rich soil i want to plant my roots in

if i’m a star,

you’re the whole sky

if i’m a melody,

you’re the symphony

and i am thankful

for that beautiful twist of fate

where it all worked out for us

where it all fell into place

what are the chances?

you found me

and i found you

and nothing has been the same since.

a love greater than

all of the stories i’ve read

all of the stories i’ve dreamt up

a harmony more beautiful

than any i’ve heard before

a love that puts hollywood to shame.

it’s you and i on the big screen, honey

for the rest of forever, it’s you and i

i like the way you look at me,

i whispered with a smile

you smiled back

tucked my hair behind my ear and said,

how do i look at you?

oh my dear, my honey,

my darling, my love,

you look at me

like i placed each star in the sky

like i am the sun breaking through darkness

like you’re seeing for the very first time

you look at me

as if i were your favorite song personified

as if i invented beauty

as if it was the last time you’d ever see again

my love, you see me like no one else can.

your eyes both devour me and embrace me

and i feel vulnerable

yet invincible

every time i meet your gaze.

today i cried in front of you

because i realized that i am scared

you made me promise

to tell you if i ever thought

we couldn’t end up together

i promised

but the thought of such a thing

made my heart crack ever so slightly.

i don’t ever wanna feel that way, i said.

you agreed,

and my heart ached

to think of a world without you.

you looked at me with concerned eyes

with a tinge of desperation

talk to me, you said, when i began to cry.

let’s talk about it.

what i really wanted to say

but didn’t, was—

my dear, my darling,

i love you.

it’s like a broken record in my brain

whenever i am with you

i love him. i love him. i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love—

i love you, so very much.

and i want to tell you

but i’m scared to death

you are everything i have ever wanted

and you are everything i have ever needed

and so much more.

thank you for seeing me

knowing me

and loving me

in ways i didn’t even know were possible.

you, my love, my honey,

were most undeniably made

to have poetry written about you

and im hoping it’s only the happy kind this time around.

everyone lays claim to love in some shape or form.

but what is love, really? does anyone know?

there have been so many different depictions and ideas of love—

it’s like finding a missing piece of yourself in someone else.

it’s belonging to someone completely, and them belonging to you.

it’s belonging to yourself only, but finding a heart that beats in tandem with yours.

it’s two souls, bonded together.

it’s one soul, split in half.

it’s meant to be, it’s fate,

it’s saying “forget fate” and “i choose you, over anyone, over anything, over and over and over again.”

it’s death do us part,

or for now and all eternity.

it’s falling and flying and tumbling and breaking and being reborn.

it’s something worth dying for,

something worth living for,

something worth sacrificing for.

“you’re no one until somebody loves you,”

or “love yourself before anyone else.”

it’s poetry, it’s song, art and prose and light,

it’s heartbreak, sorrow, jealousy, bitter rage.

and fear. so, so much fear.

yet, such profound fear can only stem from a love that is precious indeed.

after all this deliberation, this consideration,

i still do not know which perception is truth.

but perhaps the beauty of love is in the not knowing, the trusting, the pain of falling and the freedom in flying. the joy in being caught and the devastation in burning to the ground.

i’ve wondered, and i’ve pondered,

but i think i’ve decided i no longer need the answer to an unanswerable question.

—i do not know love, but i feel it,

and i am content.

1.5.19

Like a scene out of a movie.

The rain drizzled across our faces as we stood on the pier, laughing about things that we would forget the next day but still enjoying the feeling of being together anyway. You stared at me until I squirmed, calling me beautiful until I stopped rolling my eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that before - and it was hard for me to take your words seriously.

The conversation turned to giggles and arguments about our shared history, you confessing how long you had wanted me and how many times you should’ve given up but just couldn’t bear to. Hearing you say those things made me feel so...different. Like as if I was beginning to see myself in a way I had never seen myself before.

I argued that I had never rebuffed you, but the evidence you responded with proved otherwise - and once I understood this, the realization came that I had known that I resisted. In fact, I realized I was testing you. Did you really mean what you said? Were your feelings for me an actual reality? By the way you looked at me, the answer was obviously yes.

The wind and the rain picked up. The moon got dimmer as the clouds got denser. We ran to the gazebo, glittering lights illuminating the droplets still lingering on your face as we tried to take shelter.

I sat on the picnic table, you stood in front of me.

I asked you if the waiting, the fighting, the failure - was it all worth it?

What a stupid question, you said. Of course it was.

Then you kissed me.

Be my girlfriend?

The rain poured, my heart stilled. I felt so calm.

Yes, I said.

You kissed me again, but I could taste the smile lingering on your mouth.

i think about

the mirrors that shatter

and the bones that are broken

the edges that are torn

and the words that are left unsaid

all of them

connected by a thread

vastly different

but the same in their jagged incompletion.

each of them dangerous

each of them tragic

begging to be caressed to softness

yet drawing blood at the first touch.

it is not my fault that my soul is jagged edges

or tragedy weaponized

and i can’t explain how it feels

other than pointing to these images

of sharp, broken things

that long to be whole.

yet still i long

and i always will.

i try to find the words to describe what i am feeling, but they do not exist.

they are on the tip of my tongue, but they evaporate before i can spit them out

and i try to scream

but it dies in my throat

before i can make a sound.

i am being choked

but i see no hands around my neck

i am being drowned

but all i see is desert.

my suffering is nonsensical

paradoxical

illogical

and yet i suffer.

i never have been patient.

a cut takes a few days to heal

a scrape, maybe a few more

but when something breaks-

-well, that’s never happened to me before.

i’d imagine it takes a long time

waiting for those broken bones to heal

but like i said, i wouldn’t know

and can’t imagine how it must feel.

yet, what is it called when winter becomes spring?

could that not also be called healing?

what is barren, broken, mere dust

empty, colorless, so lonely, so gray

what do you call all these things

that recover from decay?

how could it be anything else

this rebirth, this miraculous mending

how could it be anything other

than healing

which begins with pain ending?

perhaps i do know what it is

to heal from a broken thing

my heart was broken once

yet winter still became spring.

it is april now

and with it, come the showers

but someone told me long ago

the rain will bring you flowers

so now, here i am, waiting-

-no, dancing in the rain

i never have been patient

but i think that i can change.

unaddressed letter, 5.20.20

i am so torn, so conflicted. part of me knows that you’re leaving in 55 days, but the other part of me can’t help but get more and more attached to you. you went camping for 5 days and i missed you probably more than i should’ve, but i couldn’t help it. not only are you my best friend, but you’re also the guy who i’ve had feelings for since forever and they’ve only gotten stronger. the way you kiss me, and whisper into the hollow of my neck, and leave a trail of kisses up my arm, the way you hold me...i don’t think i’ve ever been this vulnerable before. honestly, i don’t think my feelings have ever been this strong before, either.

it’s so strange...there have been several moments, almost like déjà vu, where i feel a distinct certainty that you and i are supposed to end up together. i know it sounds insane, but as i think about it i realize i don’t want anyone else. i want you, and you alone. i even think about all the other guys i’m going to meet in the future when you’re gone and i’m not as excited as i should be because all i wanted for so long was you. [his name here]. i’ve wanted you for around two years, and now that i have you i feel like i won’t ever want anyone else. is that bad? i feel like the worst part about the whole thing is i have no idea if you feel the same way, or if me telling you would make-

end.

i had another dream about you last night.

- it was a lot like the rest.

i wanted to hold your hand, but i was holding someone else’s

and instead of looking at him, i couldn’t stop looking at you.

he didn’t notice

but you did.

i let go

and i touched your hand

we lingered there for a moment

and my heart began to ache.

i am sitting here writing this

and i want to cry because

your hand felt exactly the way i remembered it

- rough and warm

- ridiculously, stupidly, amazingly big

- calloused, strong

- and mine.

but it wasn’t mine, not really.

because the touch

while seeming to last for eternity

truly only lasted a single moment.

and then you walked away.

and it felt like my fault.

(which, according to my subconscious, it is.)

i know this one is just like the rest

a tally on the wall

a penny in the jar

a drop in the ocean

but then

why does my heart still ache?