HOLLISANDRA.

I build these walls to keep others out but somewhere between secrets of things we couldn’t share and whispers of going nowhere but back into your arms, you slipped through the cracks like fog, like mist, like heartbeats that are not mine you belong to the sky but you still claim what is rightfully yours. I’ve seen rainy days hide our personalities beneath warm blankets and cold pillows, I’ve seen the dark patches rip apart I’m stitched up from mouth to fingers I try to speak, I try to write, but the closest thing to freedom, the closest thing to love nowadays is the words you let me breathe in. I know we try to paint without much color, all we have is grey, all we have are ashes. We’re a burning masterpiece waiting to be found, we’re a foot away from self-destruction, we’re a country away from conquering our fears– My darling, my dearest. My only fear is that one day you’ll wake up and forget about me. My only fear is that one day I’ll wake up and forget about you. It’s funny how poetry and the way our smiles bend spells the same words. It’s funny how I can make everything seem okay when it’s really not. I think it’s another lie we’ve been meaning to speak as truth and I know I’ve been hiding from my emotions because what’s worse than trying to understand how you really feel about this place. I’ve been riding in car rides with the radio turned off. I’ve been living with my heart inside of a vase, I’ve been trying to grow myself into something we could keep and handed out during spring. I know we still try to make sense out of everything that has happened to us, but most days– I can only try, and you’ll say: Trying is the only art worth mastering.