WindFragments

You like to think that you're not emotional, but yeah right, I've seen you all worn down before, you didn't cry but you might as well have, I see your drunk I love you texts and the way you try to go around words to make me feel better and the time you take to stay by our side and it makes me realize  that you're just putting up a front, that really you will miss walking side by side with us even though you don't want to admit it I love you too I used to like to think that I like being alone, that I could live my life all by myself because people are frustrating, careless, they will abandon you with the slightest nudge when they are th

I am singing at the top of my lungs and laughing until I cry, and even when there are bruises on our hearts, somehow the black and blue form galaxies, somehow car headlights can light up my eyes, somehow even though I'm struggling, it all feels worthwhile The world is full of starlight and pain, airplane trails, tangled complexes, crosswalk scrapes, but when I walk down the streets at night, all I can hear is the sound of my own footsteps, one, two, one, two, and it's comforting that in the end nothing really matters but the sound of my own heartbeat Sometimes I have to give up precious things for the sake of more precious things, but my

"What do you want?" Defeated, his voice breaks into a thousand fragile pieces that cut into my hands as I try to hold him close The incandescent glow of the city lights speckles the darkness of the rolling hills and as I hear the raindrops gently falling on the pavement, I can see a blurry stoplight wavering in the distance, green, yellow, red "Your color is stained on my hands, in my heart, through my veins, ever since I touched you, my world has been dyed a color I've never seen before, but I don't know if I want it. I don't know if I need it. The sky was still blue before and the grass green and I am afraid that one day you will suck th

The world is dark, but it is comforting somehow to be alone, finally alone, the fairy lights a soft white dangling on the wall with only the soft noise of the fan in my ears, I sink into the couch and then back into my mind I tiptoe gently on the cold check print and absentmindedly realize I am a constant monologue, I string the words together, sewing them into harmony and I realize my head is always  in the clouds even if my feet are grounded Morning comes again too soon and as I lay in the softness and sunlight, protected from the world, I begin wondering what they're doing right now, wondering if this is all worth it, wondering if I

I want to be alone, I feel like a mess, like I have left the words strewn all over my bedroom floor, like I've forgotten to take out the trash one too many days and I wish I had cleaned up just a bit sooner Living like this is tiring, but I am managing it still, my brain is a colorful hurricane of clothes, of pencils, textbooks, towels, I am desperately searching through the piles of things for answers, I am always desperately gasping for breath, but I am still stubbornly living anyway Fuck, I want to be happy I wish I knew how

I breathe in and taste the sun-kissed air, the rough feel of my palms, the blood on my lips, the salt tangled through my hair, running down my face, and I can hear my heart beating loud and clear, but this feeling is not mine to keep

And with tears in her eyes, she laughed and it was like someone spilt gold glitter in the air, as if she was just told that everything that made her blue was going to vanish She was a field of yellow wildflowers during a thunderstorm and the swirl of colors from starry night, her eyes were bright as the tears slipped silently down her face and I could only watch in awe

This is how I will go out without even making a sound I am a slave to the equations that hold constant in this universe, writing and rewriting the letters and numbers so the future will be in my grasp even though I was also taught in philosophy that there's no telling if the sun will even rise tomorrow Even when I rip up the equations and throw the papers out the window and watch them fall down to the parking lot pavement, it doesn't matter because I still don't know where I should be, I can't find anywhere I belong and like that I live my life in a haze because I can't find any other way "As if I could ever be a universe," I think as I l

I am always listening to the sound the world makes when it turns, pressing my bare feet against its soil and counting the number of times my heart beats beneath my skin It's so strange to me that other people don't feel so much, they don't become engulfed with the blueness of the sky or swallowed by the sadness of words that were never said or lay on the floor and look in wonder at their hands and legs and feet, the veins and capillaries and arteries and bones and muscle and cells all working together to keep them alive Every cell in my body, every breath, every fiber of my being wants to belong to this ridiculous, crazy place called Eart

Home is wherever my feet are planted and where my eyes look toward all the same, and I am not sorry anymore, I am more stubborn now, holding on tight and not letting go, I am, I am, I am, with my head in the clouds and my feet grounded, my entire existence is a contradiction and yet I am