I thought I was ready to go, but there’s a part of me that does not wish to leave this place. I want to stay in our moment forever, to start and end my day here with you. I am never as happy when in your presence than at any other time. I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t know how to live without you.
There are a lot of things that you should know about me.
My mind is a dangerous place–it is dark and messed up. I might be reluctant to let you in because even I would get lost in my thoughts of drowning in a sea of blood, of sinking my teeth into the decay of my mortality, and of all of the monsters I trade my secrets with at night.
My heart is still something unknown and something I have yet to own. It breaks every time it beats and anchors my body to the ground. It is shameful and worships metaphors and similes. Desire seeps out of my skin and I use it to set myself on fire on the darkest of dawns.
My body is a constellation of scars and bruises. It is an immense space full of clandestine ramblings, a dusty box filled with unsent love letters, a map of veins and worn-out skin. I am made of crossed fingers, 11:11 wishes, false hopes. I am stitched by dilemmas, fears, insecurity and depression and there will be times that you won’t be able to understand me. I have the tendency to be very clingy and sometimes, insensitive.
There will be times that I will push you to the verge of giving up but please, don’t tolerate me. Don’t whisper prayers of your love for me. Do not ever try to worship me. And most of all, do not ever try to save me.
Because I don’t need to be saved.
I won’t need one. I am not that damsel in distress who cries and wait for her prince to swoop in and save her. I’m not going to be bruised nor damaged. Nor gonna need any kind of repairing.
If I ever find myself deciding to love you, it’s going to be because I am complete enough for it. It’s going to be because I’m prepared to capitulate, carrying the knowledge with me that I won’t let any piece of me to be a patch of yours and vice versa. It’s going to be because we already are better for one another. It’s going to be because I am confident in my own skin that I won’t need any saving, I am confident in my own self to have faith in love even when everybody else is trying to make change of that faith.
s.a., to the boy who will have the courage to delve deeper in my sea
A few weeks ago, I laid on top of a car and I’m pretty sure I was high out of my mind. I must have been because in that moment, I was free. I was not bound by a single drop of sorrow. I was not sad because I had no one, quite the opposite actually… I was happy, I was smiling. I finally figured it out as I looked into the night overhead the street corners blooming with dark surprises. I was not attached to my body as I watched the stars glaze over my eyes and in that moment I knew. I knew the answer to my own shine. I knew how to get there. It’s not a matter of how or what or why. It was when. It was not in that moment, that is just the beginning. This is just a short prose piece. I’m just another poet. I’m just some human living his days away because of something I shouldn’t have said to someone I shouldn’t have loved, but isn’t that the beauty? To figure all of this shit out…? In that slow fall of dust stripping from the moon, I found myself allowed to belong to the universe and yeah sure, I was probably high, but at least…