Hey. I don’t know if you’re sleeping or awake. I don’t know if you’re letting your illnesses get to you or if you’re letting your family tickle your woes away. I don’t know if you’re looking in the sky and seeing the beauty in light and dark. Or if you’re looking away from those you love with your eyes on the ground. I don’t know if you’re in pain from the night before, when you cried alone. I don’t know if you’re safe. And it scares the fuck out of me. I don’t know you, but you need to stand as tall as those buildings in Dubai. It’s never really goodbye, okay? I don’t know if you’re laughing or if you’re crying about a small scene in a favorite show. I don’t know if you’re scared out of your mind because he’s leaving you. Or if you’re happy because he told you that he loved your smile today. I don’t know if you’ll read this or if you think you’re completely alone. No matter how many poems I write, it’ll just be empty sketches if your loneliness hugs you skin-tight on the bedroom floor. If you’re shivering and these frail and fragile words… no longer provide you with comfort. I’d be nothing and just as cold. I don’t know if your hand is on the stove or if you feel your feet in the Arctic Waters. Let my words be your cool aloe vera soothing your burned fingertips. Let these images wrap you from head to toe. It’ll be your mittens for this Winter. I know it still hurts when you think about him. I don’t know if you’ll ever heal. Though… I do know. If you ever need someone to talk to, you’ve got hot cocoa and a blanket worded friend, right here. Don’t stress too much, the morning is only bright because the darkness is make-up for the sky. If the morning sky cried, the bright make-up fades away. But if the morning stops crying, the make-up covers the bruised dark clouds, once again. You’re hidden again. Behind all of your bright and blithe giggles. The fake smiles keep people closer, you’d think. Hey. You’re not alone, just a sky that cries. You’ve got this. We all need a mountain to lean on, sometimes. We all need a starry night blanket to wrap us from the dead space temperature. Here’s a smile from my poems to you. I’ll be a ninny with you.
— Infinity is made from broken clocks, @blitheandblot.