#writeyourselfalive

But you are filled too full and

It comes out of the cracks in

Your skin. How can you expect

To not blind those close to you?

Sometimes it burns their fingertips

And they drift off away.

The light dims But

The sun does not need apologise

For shining. Without it, there is only

There is something I

Want to say to you to

Describe, I suppose the

Way that I feel. But

I

Never will.

Not because I don't want

To put them out to the

Universe, written forever

In black ink with nothing

Between the lines but

instead because

The words to

Describe this feeling

Don't translate into

Letters and words

And insignificant

Sentences. It's like

A longing for a world

That is the same as this

One.

But different.

An understanding without

Words or actions that

Makes me both happy

And sad, easy and

Uneasy at the same time.

I feel like a small

Child who was just

Told that Santa Claus

Doesn't exist.

I've gained something.

But lost something

That I

Can never

Get

My friends tell me I dodged a bullet..

Yeah?

I think I miss you more.this.time.

The great healer of all things.

We don't move in .straight.lines

You and I. Time it seems only exists

Linear in a world made for others. Our

Time folds over and.over,

Bringing you to me,

Down here.

Here invisible among the rancour

Of dakness and intonation of

Intentions: good, sometimes compromising

But always with kindness.

When things are looking up

I see you. You see clouds.

You see angels. I see you.

The melody of compliments

Backhands me. You know

I know. But sometimes

Polite smiles and positivity

And kindness aren't enough.

How is it never enough

And why is it all I've got.

Somethings can't be fixed

With love. Or work. Time maybe.

And you don't know how you look

From down here. At least I'm looking up.

And for what it's worth,