And the world keeps spinning.

are you home? I wonder if live in your skin because I'm homesick for your touch, writing letters to your stare feeling dizzy between my bones drunk off the last edge of glass we shared still sitting on my nightstand is you at 2am. I'm 96 hours sober of your lips and I am itching in my fingers could I scratch them on your hips? are you home? I'm asking because when I knock against my chest it's you answering. I've been 5,760 point - minutes sober of you I can't take another second.

There are key points in your life that require a change of pace, a different direction or a simple refocus. In those moments, there is a window reflecting change. Sometimes, you'll gaze at it, and then lower your blinds. Tomorrow when you wake up, you'll raise the curtains and forget to look at the way the sun is beautifully glistening against the glitter splattered on concrete. You'll go outside and walk so fast you won't notice the glow of your own two feet or the color of blue at 7am. And by 7pm, you're already exhausted tomorrow. The window is always there, and you gaze at it the same every night. But one day, you find yourself whispering secrets to the moon while the glass ombre's into grey. Tonight, open your window. Let the air consume you until you feel yourself lifting toward your manifestations. How many times will you scrape your knees, catching things that are made to fall? Like cupping rain into your palms, because you think it'll serve your thirst for later. Babygirl, don't deprive these flowers of growth. Tomorrow, walk slow. Remember the hues of your morning. Next week when water hits your skin, let it sink into the parts of you that crave wet kisses. You cannot fix things that aren't broken. And many times, nothing is actually broken. Sometimes we question life, because we haven't found the answer to ourselves. It is easy to blame the nearest thing you can point to, forgetting that you are the closest to your fingertips. You could never be happy with what you have until you realize that You Are The Blessing. Take time for you and take your time, on you. You deserve it. Open your window.

It is, like a bruise. Sometimes, I find myself time traveling into orange dye stained bathtubs and black markers spelling my name incorrectly on Starbucks drinks for the 3rd time during long shifts, into speed and spit on the bench then next to you in summer days laid out on the carpet of your room. If I press down, I remember everything. I remember you walking past me pushing an empty rolling rack and you sneak a smile while your hair curls past your right eye and I think I feel more than I can handle with just that glance because the next thing I do, is make every wrong move. And if I press down a little harder, everything kind of skips, then turns black like I'm blinking too fast and each image that plays, are moments before I crash and then I wake up in the dark to a recording looping words you don't mean. And I can drown it out, but only if I cry. It's been so many years, I don't understand why I can't look back without covering my eyes. I know it was all meant to happen, for the sake of us growing apart, to grow apart, so we could grow a part of each other. I'm sorry for the shit we put each other through, neither of us deserved that kind of love. I want to kiss every place I've ever hurt you, while you hug the aches in my chest, caress my head to quell the chaos in corners of my brain so I can turn them without turning into rain... I love you, then now and always, as much as it hurts to go back there's beauty in the breakdown. The way I never knew a love like you, with fire and ice at the same time. How I could collapse into a million pieces, for the hands that could fix me. How I could run away, into the same direction. How I could lay in complete darkness with light right beside me. I won't ever be able to explain what the years with you truly felt like without sounding like a contradiction, but that's what we were.. in summer naps and winter cuddles, we lie. And I, fall, every time you spring away. And that wasn't ever the way I wanted to spend time with you. I promise, this time, won't be like the first time

I want you naked, drunk, heavy breathing in slumber next to me in this half ass bed where we make full ass love and I fall asleep after to the white noise inside your skin. I want you at the exact moment of 1:37pm, on a Sunday, when I turn over to the bass in your eyes playing my neon sunrise, and I am afraid to tell you that we've slept away time, but I do, and you, pull me in and just smile, then kiss my right shoulder, just above the 'you' in my tattoo, which makes complete sense because.. I wanna kiss you too. I want the smell of you, the one of tequila & sweat, with high notes of moans and your tongue on my collarbones, I try to trap your scent inside four walls.. just so I could call you home. I want you to stay before you go, come before you leave, visit me in between, and then.. come again for me. And I hate that you left last night, because sometimes I wake up at 3am, searching for you beneath flat Target pillows and yesterdays. I just want you closer, so that our hands can intertwine, and I'll match your palms beside mine, so I can show... you in my lifeline. Then we can drink tequila, and whine, about how much I hate the time and maybe you'll fall asleep naked, drunk, heavy breathing, next to me...until its 1:37pm again, on a Sunday.