And Who Am I.

And who am I.

If not a building block in the tower of someone else's life. An integral part of its structure. And what an honor it is to hold you up. What an honor it is to love you.

And who am i.

If not anything that you need me to be.

Who am i, to ask life to favour me when she is already so clearly taken with you. And who am i to deny life her love.

Who am i to deny life. To deny love.

And if a smile costs me nothing tangible. Just a shared touch, hand, shoulder, ear, some time; Until my entire being is leant to someone elses

Who am i.

To waste what life has given me on myself

If a smile costs me nothing tangible

Who am i to deny that thread. If I may create a stich in someone's gaping wound of a soul. To stop the outpour of blood. Enough to allow life and that soul to be in love a little longer.

Who am i do deny life. To deny love.

And if a smile costs me nothing tangible.

Just a thread.

Who am I.

To call the ache of a million strings originating from a touch, shoulder, ear, some time;

Unbearable.

As it pulls me in a million different directions.

Who am i? To tell life I cannot bear it? When others have left their bloody handprints all over me, who am i to fret over a few drops of my own?

Afterall, what an honour it is to be sacrificed in the name of life. In the name of love.

And yet who am i?

To ask someone else to lend me

A smile

A stich

A hand

Of their own

How can I ask life to stay a little longer with me, when she has so many fleeting loves? When all she asks of me is a smile. A stich.

And who am i to deny life. To deny love.

Afterall

What an honor it is to love you.

Throw back to about a year ago when we weren’t in quarantine and I was thriving kinda sorta <3

Preformed at my city’s first slam and came in second place…and met the mayor…and got a gift card to a book store…like– could it get any better?

I am sorry

If i am reading into things

But

You keep looking at me

Like i am here

And

I cannot help but marvel

At the possibility

That i am,

That i might actually exist,

And that you too,

Might recognize this phenomenon

If you let me love you…

If you let me love you

I would love you like how the sun leaves lipstick stains on your skin

Like how the moon trails your shadow and laughter

Like how fireflies emerge from your fallen tear drops

And the wind dances until it makes you blush pink

I would love you like how the rain washes the day clean off your skin so you can breathe again

I would love you the way nature intended you to be loved

The way you have forgotten you deserved to be loved

If you let me love you

Stopped glancing away

And dancing around conversations

And walking past me

If you looked at me

Let me look at you

Let me love you

I would tell you of how when you smile I can trace constellations in the spaces between your teeth

That when you open your eyes I can drown in galaxies that exist there

Pinpoint a pollen sized planet and make home there

Cease existing everytime you blink for a momentary eternity

I will trace the fractured lines of your heart on your soft palms and callused fingertips

If you let me love you

I will love you the right way

Which is to say that if you let me love you

I will let you love me too

Because sometimes the only reason you let someone in

Is so they will do the same for you

I broke a heart once. Twice. A few times. It is not what one might expect. Because I assure you every promise I have broken hurt me as much as it did you. Every night you cried yourself to sleep I was granted no such relief. I laid awake in bed, tossing and turning. Feeling the fragments of your heart sprinkled and caught in the bedsheets. They cut me every time I moved, breathed, blinked. Raging a million paper cut wound revenges. And I, bled out into the blankets without resistance. Thinking maybe you could use this blood sacrifice like glue. But you have never been the blood thirsty type.

~I never thought I would break a heart

There is a boy prince who lays on this forest’s floor.

He has been here so long the ground has sunk to hold him and roots have grown to intertwine with strands of his hair and flowers have bloomed to caress his limbs. Tethering him. 

Moonshine tears itself into ribbons to descend tattered through trees to keep him company through the night, until the sun rises. And her children of light reach him at last and kiss his eyelids closed, submerging him in warmth until each morning dew drop tear has been evaporated away. 

The forest air fills his lungs until every crevice of him is teaming with the spirit of this place. Until the very essence to this forest has woven itself into the thread of his being. Until it is no longer clear who is keeping who alive. 

And yet, he stays. Soil under nails, starlight trapped in eyes, moss filling ears, the light fades and rain falls and the boy cannot lift an arm to shield himself. The beautiful flowers tie him down and he does not struggle. Even as bare branches refuse to shelter him. And no light comes down to save him.

And. 

It was not always like this.