fall felt fast moving. it must of all unfolded in a time and space i didn’t subscribe to.
and i can’t remember how this goes, my heart shrinks and expands with each new skin. you’ve hardly been here a year.
what does it feel like to ride so carelessly. it’s like you’re living in a song with no ending.
i have always thought in terms of finality. perhaps it is because i have come close with my own. when you touch death, you come out different. you don’t walk quite the same, and you will never find the depth in other people you so deeply desire. you will want them to sing about the fire, but they’ve never touched it. you will want them to relay their experience right before the lights went out (you will secretly wish it was like your own) but they won’t have the words. you will watch others dance their whole lives on the surface, and you will be jealous of their happiness. you will wonder how they get excited in such grand simplicity, find joy in having a family and a home. you will never relate, but don’t let that harden you.
like a blossom, you will unfold in untraditional ways. you will make a family with your artist friends in new york. you will walk the streets in trash and rats, only to look up and feel more alive than ever. you will be triggered, but soon it will only feel like inertia. that stuff that makes books and movies and photographs. that stuff that teaches others how to feel. you are magic from madness. relish in its wild delights. ✨