(an ongoing piece detailing my weak spine)
- I would lose my sight to the sun before I blink and miss it again.
- Thinking is something I’ve always done, but can you believe that the earth rotates without a thought? As I think until I become nothing, the earth keeps turning.
- I haven’t considered you in so long that you became another universe: untouchable and foreign, like a stranger on the street. Yet I remember how you spoke when your grandpa died, and the way you would talk about home. Not quite a poet, but your words came together the same way.
- I am still lonely, but I made it to twenty-three.
- Your words feel cut and dry, like any poem found in the beginning of a paper thin novella. You think: “Speak and they will listen,” but its all been said before. A curse of the human condition.
- At sunset: “Look at the sky!”
But you’re always too late, my voice miles away, the day turned to night.
- Touch is a love language you don’t know how to speak and all I can do is beg for you to talk, talk, talk.
- I’ve never felt more like a second thought than when you remind me of your first.
- Nothing makes me feel less beautiful than when you close your eyes, touch me, and sigh.
- And with your soul to match my sadness I think I will be okay. Your light will help outshine my dark.
(to be continued…)