love love love a beautiful thing we long to experience it can be wonderful or it can be painful it’s a forever kind of thing with the right person it makes us stupid it makes us happy nothing will change that feeling the feeling love gives you but with the right person if you’re lucky you’ll find your person the right person i found mine one in 8 billion you feel happy, loved something i’ve longed for you feel emotions you never knew existed all for one person the right person how could one do that to me i was cold hearted intimidating how just how could one person make me crack but in the best way possible thats when i know he’s the right person the only right person
I could hear laughing like being held underwater by playful waves crashing down on my head laughing laughing laughing me under.
It’s like being wrapped tightly in a blanket composed of your own thoughts. Except the blanket gets too tight and starts to suffocate you.
Like an anaconda and it’s prey,
my thoughts and me.
I’ve fallen prey to my own thoughts and it’s slowly killing me. No matter how hard I try, the screams of self-doubt and anxiety run wild through my brain. No matter how hard I try, they’re too fast for logical thinking to catch up. No matter how hard I try to remain still and calm, the real me fades away as I’m left in the dust, and soon there is nothing but fast heart beats, and sweaty shaking hands.
No matter how hard I try to take deep breaths,
no matter how hard I try to lower my ever increasing heart rate,
no matter how hard I try to focus on a single person in the crowd,
no matter how hard I try to steady my hands,
my thoughts are too fast for me to catch up.
I stare at the audience. They stare back. I feel frozen in time.
I could hear laughing like being held underwater by playful waves crashing down on my head laughing laughing laughing me under.
*Italicized text from Jason Reynolds’ Long Way Down
The Mask Mask of light and color Hands painted silver Wood swords and costumes, playful performances on the cushions. Running in the garden. Harmonious, Playful, secure. Boundaries are blurred into a vibrant versatile world. Then comes the shadow, It meticulously watches your actions. Precise, Skeptical, Neglected. The garden has died. Costumes hidden in the cupboard. Cushions are just a place to sit, Hands are dull. And its gone, The Mask
I dream of the dusty mountains ways away. I wonder if they look the same after all these years. To see the burning sun and get the chance to reintroduce myself after all I’ve grown. I want to paint myself in the colors of the sky, but I’ve grown weary waiting in the grey that surrounds me.
My memory has dulled what made it the most beautiful.
I’m afraid I’ll forget its name, or for it to become a muted image in my mind.
Stuck trapped on a fence between my interests and my cynicism. Maybe in old age, I’ll visit again, but time passes so quickly here. There is no use trying to reinforce tracks that won’t stay. I’ve made them too strong against the ways of the world. I was told to follow the future everyone seeks, but I am too stubborn to follow that cycle into death. Instead, I choose to call out to no one, cracking my neck to watch the stars. Please don’t forget me, as I once did you. I settle for watching you in a quiet space with closed eyes. I lay on the mountains, shining alone amongst the vacant sky.
I settle into bed, but I can tell from the thunder booming outside that I won’t soon sleep.
A warm yellow glow filters through my window, the bright midnight light creating slats on the floor that illuminate the papers strewn across my desk.
I’m in the eye of the hurricane, enjoying the moment of calm before the storm.
In the distance, I can make out the rumble of trucks thundering down the street, endlessly sweeping its predecessor’s mess. I hear it shudder and crawl closer until its growl is almost unbearable, the storm just outside my window.
Suddenly, the harsh metallic clang of lightning striking the ground pierces the night, ripping away the peace I had known just a moment ago.
But then I hear it fade. I’m left with only my yellow sky, always one moment away from another wave of the storm.
