we can't move on we can't stay here

i'm wishing you joy and happiness
but above all this i wish you love

i am grateful for the knowledge of pain and sacrifice. of deep heartache and missing someone so hard it physically hurts, of being intimately familiar with the way your heart rate pulses and skips and slows. because it's part of knowing love. joy and happiness are wonderful, but completely one dimensional without the experience of the depth of pain.

i often tell people that i wish i had never met you because i would never have had to set the bar at where you are. to learn what i am capable of feeling. to be able to feel so connected from so far away. to say "you know?" and have you reply, "yes. completely."

today i know that isn't true. today, through tears and troubled breathing, i'm deeply afraid that i won't ever find this again. and yet, inexplicably, i do not wish that at all.

insomnia

night won't breathe, oh how we
fall in silence from the sky
and whisper some silver reply

unwilling to go to bed because i'm afraid of the way my mind drifts right before i fall asleep. afraid of what i might dream.

instead, soft violin alongside a bird's solo chirping. the midnight breeze swirls into the room and lingers, bringing with it darkness and the quiet of the night.

you woke me up again. i'd pushed you into the corners of my mind, where i thought i could trap you, but you dragged yourself into my early morning reveries. i might have escaped without remembering, if it weren't for an unfortunate artificial disturbing of my REM sleep.

really, only you could terrify me with a smile.