Long Ago I Accepted That My Mind Would Always Outrun My Body. It Would Be An Exhausting Existence But

I was told I needed to learn to sit with my grief. to hold its hand and mother it. to allow it to exist within me.

But I don't think I can mother anything, not even myself. I sit beside my grief, hand in hand. We're staring at each other. both wondering why we're here.

Sometimes I catch myself not breathing.

No air filtering in through my lungs.

My brain fuzzy and slow without it.

My chest still and my shoulders hunched.

Like some subtle subconscious part of me just decided this was it.

Time to give up.

That moment of anticipatory silence

Like the crackle of a speaker before the song starts.

Like the inhale of breath before you speak.

Like the moment after the flash when you're waiting for the thunder

That's what you feel like.

Comparing children is like comparing planets.

Being different doesn't mean one is better than the other.

Except when one is better than the other.

Sometimes I feel it behind my eyes. Like a pressure. Just reminding me that it's there. An acknowledgement.

But rarely does it bloom into that sad wet thing.

Running hot down my cheeks.

I've never been someone who cries much.

But then again I've never had much to cry about.

Just never had much.

Crying over nothing. The lack. The absence never made sense to me.

There is a feeling. A sadness. But no tears.

I wish. God I wish.

You'd give me something to cry about.

Wanna feel that release.

When you grow up a certain way, you may know what the cat feels when it shies from your hand

Unwanted suitor

I'd like to say there's a light in your eyes but baby I haven't seen it.

I'd like to blush and bat my eyes but baby I wouldn't mean it.

I could say we talked and fell all night, but that would be bull.

I could say you were mysterious, but I found you're rather dull.

I tried to be nice the first seven times, you really can't take a hint.

So I'll spell it out for you.

G E T B E N T

If you hurt over every little thing, all you'll ever do is hurt

Stop telling me I have to be pure, to be worth it.

Here among the stars and brine

The souls sing and weep

Trying not in vain to lure a sailor from his sleep

They call it seduction, heavy and sweet

But is it a trap if they give you that for which your heart beats?