I have a habit of falling in love with souls who have yet to be at peace with their bodies, their minds, their weaknesses. I try to build them, to find the parts of them that are missing in me. I end up with holes in my chest.
I think it hurts the worst when you get your hopes up for something, get them up really high to the point where you think it actually might happen–and then it doesn’t. And you’re left sitting there, under the weight of your disappointment, with concrete in your chest and tears lining your eyes, and what do you do after that? Nothing. All you can seem to do is sit there and listen to the echoing sounds your body makes in all of its emptiness.
Time brought our hearts together where mountains witness—
how—the sun rises,
and how oceans feel when it sets.
Series of paths—
where—our feet crossed,
to the place our minds seemed
peaceful and lost.
Your hands tightly holding mine,
as I keep to look forward
of what was beyond.
Darling, I beg you not to lose hope,
for this climb is much wonderful
to be taken as an adventure.
Breathe the air that I breathe
and wait for the moon to watch—
how—our souls bloom.
The night sky will show us its stars,
as we lay down in silence
with love in our eyes.