“You Cant Fall In Love With A Dream”

I gather every small flame I can,

telling myself I have survived this season before,

my hands still trembling

around the light.

There are names I carry,

echoes still waiting

for a voice.

Where were your hands

when mine had forgotten how to hold?

Why did the rooms learn my weeping

better than the people I loved?

I’m expected

to braid daylight

from the loose ends

of dusk,

yet no one asks a flower

to bloom

without the sun.

I want

to lay down the armor,

be held instead of holding,

to believe

someone else

might keep watch

until morning,

for once, closing

my eyes

without fearing

I want to show everybody the absolute limits of humanity. I want to walk exactly on the edge of those limits and make people doubt if the boundaries even exist at all.

I do not want to rest. I have already wasted too much time, and I have to make up for every second lost. I have wasted an enormous amount of time trapped inside the confines of my own head, and I no longer accept that paralysis. I just want something different—something kinetic and real.

You know, dear, I have not cut my hair

Since I met you.

You said it was pretty once, and I didn’t want to lose it

But to keep the littlest part of me you found

Yourself so fond

To,

Even if just a modicum