Tag: light

what i’m too afraid to say

i really, most truly, do love everyone.
i like most people.
there are very few who i don't get along with or enjoy spending time around.
but there are very few,
who ignite such an interest in me, as you.
who have me completely captivated, dying to figure you out,
excitedly yearning for our next moment together,
reigniting in me the love and joy that we are all born as-
when we are but excitable, pure, curious children-
that seems to slowly become overshadowed in so many.
you have no idea.
i already wrote a poem about you.
fuck.
i just want to be your best friend.

another poem

as i was writing my last post, about feeling stuck in the past and fearing that i may be struggling more than i realize, i couldn’t help but to think of a couple pieces that i had written, one being an essay, and the other being this poem that i wrote, while i sat in a rather soft and cozy chair in a cold, rigid treatment center, where there were too many bright and stale fluorescent lights, but it felt like one of the darkest places on earth; a poem i wrote about the days of my life that were simply cold and dark, any way you tried to look at it.

buried in snow,
i reach out,
forcing my arm through the wall,
of frozen icy crystals,
for you.
others try to help,
but i insist on waiting for you.

on a mattress on the floor,
in a locked room,
of a dark,
unfurnished apartment,
my bare skin,
pressed against your warm, naked body.

seeking comfort from those
who cause me fear,
the more you hurt me,
the stronger i cling to you.