in my Igloo...

There’s growth and wisdom in the obstacles. Self love and strength tenfold. I’ll be here, with you, against the impossible. We’ll escape covered in gold. 

When things turn for the worst and home is far, I’ll be okay. It’s going to be okay. When I feel lost, alone and no one cares, I’ll be okay. This won’t be the first or last; It’s happened before and sleep always makes things go. When nights grow short and the sun learns to hide, I’ll be okay. When the mornings are hopeless and drag you down. When the holidays come around and I feel the dread of loneliness in the cold, I’ll be okay. When I find the fix and my smiles come back around, when I get on track and make a trade. I’ll be okay, I’m going to be okay.

It’s starting again; winter and the highs of my melancholy. I don’t think I ever memorized my way home, I suppose I never tried; and now my family wonders when I’ll be back. Trauma, my anxiety and insecurity; “Fuck everyone else!”, my sister says, while talking me into coming back. I’ve lost my way, it’s winter and my bed is warmer than their hugs. I’m alone and shut in. It’s winter and my bed is warmer than their hugs.

I’ve been to the edge and back, of what you fear and what you want. Life hides on the corner, before the black. The trick is knowing when to jump.

I have a boyfriend now and I’m scared of him and us; I thought having a partner was what I wanted. Being an introvert and having few friends has it’s societal repercussions. Now if I try to let someone in, I risk feeling like I’m losing my identity.

To all the outsiders and furry lovers!

I don’t live very far from this laundromat; I drove passed it one night and felt like I had to share it’s vibes with everyone.  

I get so entangled in moments that I lose track of things, yet that’s where I find who I am. In my disposition I teach my soul to be, because that’s where I’ve always been. I can’t seem to get used to it but I’m getting the hang of it. Smile, listen, be polite and breath. Smile, listen, be polite and care; because someone eventually will. I’ve always viewed things a certain way, in a certain shade. Rose colored glasses with thorns for temples. I’ll repaint my room soon, before the clouds clear and the muses go hungry. The moon plays jazz while I ponder through my conversations. In my disposition.   

I need to learn how to love myself as much as I love you. I used to dream of a love that would make the moon jealous, of unconditional affection. I need to build myself up with stronger ideals; I’m not disposable, I’m worth it and enough. I need to be enough, for myself at least. But the mountains will always yearn for the sea, and I’ll forever lose myself in the search. I seem to only care if I suffice, though I could never. I’ve only known a certain type of love so I can’t expect more. Does it even exist? You exist, I know that. I also know that your voice calms my storms and your eyes kill my pride. I can’t lie to you, and I can’t stand being in bad terms; though I’m in constant bad terms with myself... Don’t say anything, but I love you; don’t say anything, I really do. You can’t say it back, that’s why I need to learn how to love myself as much as I love you.  

The government has decided to finally tell all about what they know on UFO’s; as if the moving lights in the sky are something new. Some say they are inter-dimensional, others swear it’s the grays. I’m just hoping they don’t go away. Pretty lights in the night sky, coming down to make wishes on us. I want them to stay. They don’t seem to do any harm; the one’s in Marfa seem to have been here forever. My friend said he couldn’t believe what was happening when he witnessed them, he said he felt like running up to people and asking them if they saw them too. I hope I do. They bring a magic to this depressing era of greed, disease and death. They make me feel less alone. Maybe they are the end, or they’ll bring it; either way, what a show. I’ve been seeing shaky phone videos of other UFO encounters; from plane windows to clear sunny day spottings. Some appear solid and otherworldly, others look like geometric shapes, all stunning while defying the laws of physics. Doesn’t Metatron come as flashing lights? Geometric shapes...weren’t the higher angels in the bible geometrical as well? Whatever these lights and shapes are, they bring out my wonder and sense of adventure. 

You hung up on me and I realized that was the third time. The third and last. I know you’ve got your problems and your love, and I should probably love myself more than I love your attention; better late than ever I suppose. I gave you plenty warnings. If you want your silence, if you want your space, have it. Have it all. It’s up to here that I accept your disrespect. I loved you, and even though you didn’t want it, you enjoyed it. You loved my flirtatious charm and my unapologetic affection. I needed your voice to feel okay, I loved you, but the third time’s the charm.

It’s over; the morning talks and stress-less hours. I knew I’d ruin this from the start. It’ll be a lesson I review when I sit and smell the flowers in the back seat of my car.

I’ve never been good at keeping people around, so I’m not surprised you’re gone. I am surprised by how it hurts as much as all the other times. I never wanted you to be another one, but I’m meant to be alone. Can’t you tell?  I feel alone again with you, so I no longer need you. I don’t want you anymore and I understand it’s my fault. I am not made for love. I’ve never been good at keeping friends, so I am not surprised I’m alone again; I’m just surprised I let it happen again.

I will celebrate you today like I always do, knowing you wouldn’t do the same if it were up to you.

Days are longer thanks to you; again, I can’t tell if that’s bad or good. But it’s true, you make it less dull. We’ve gone about this the wrong way; you fear I won’t let you stay, and I think you might throw me away. But there’s no destination anyway.