The You I've Never Known

There is strength in forgiveness.

She is silk, he is leather. She is lithe, he is brawn. She is low tide, he is high. She quivers, he quakes.

Funny how the brain manages damage control, conveniently curtaining windows that overlook certain footpaths into the past. I try to keep the shades drawn.

Despite all the bad, I did love him. Still do, though sometimes I can't figure out why. Maybe I've always been desperate to love anyone at all.

I keep my eyes turned away from (x). I don't want to tumble off that cliff, again, despite enjoying the strange, precipitous fall.

There are dreams you never want to wake up from. Doesn't matter if you find yourself in some cloud forest or at a country fair, it's all about who you're with in those dreams. Regardless of what you're doing---slow dancing or riding a carousel---it's how you feel just being with them, like finally you're whole. But then dawn insists you have to let go of the fantasy, cleave in two again, leave that half behind while you claw up into the real-world realm, sweat clinging to you like the regret you can't run away from.

I command my inner voice to shut the hell up and let me enjoy what's left of this day without overthinking or dissecting or second-guessing or otherwise closing myself off to perhaps very real possibilities.

he came into this world infected with wanderlust