it was as if everything he had been searching for was right there in front of his face. words all neatly bundled up into the perfect Instagram post that was only waiting to be stumbled upon. granted, the circumstances around discovery could have been better, but maybe it couldn’t have happened any other way. maybe it literally took a trip halfway across the world and back, a few broken hearts, depression, and a happy moment filled with uncertainty to find the words he wanted but didn’t quite believe existed.
he knew what he was looking for, sort of. it’s just, how do you find something when you don’t even know what it looks like? like this, I suppose. perfectly by accident, because the world isn’t that perfect but it is nice to think that it is. perfectly by accident, because you never know what comes next after reaching goals you just knew you were never going to reach. perfectly, or by accident. maybe the how doesn’t matter, but there’s still always the problem of “what do I do now…”
it hurts to hurt people but
hurt people hurt people,
even when we’ve got
nothing but the best of intentions
especially then, because what’s best
for me might not be what’s best for you, but
best believe I know what’s best because
best believe I am a man of my word
except that doesn’t mean shit when
you keep telling me what you need and
I keep telling you what you need and
and we both keep failing to communicate
to each other.
we keep shouting words at one another
both of us still waiting for the other
to shut up and sit down but oh brother
if there’s anything we are, best believe
that we are stubborn.
and I know that we are stubborn because we care
and that you don’t care that we’re stubborn because you care
and that I don’t care that you don’t care
because I care
but we’ve got to care a little more
about being stubborn a little less
or else this thing called us isn’t going anywhere.
neither of us wants to say it, but this argument is going nowhere.
it is going nowhere fast
and I don’t want these heated moments
spent together to be our last.
I just want for you and me to be together.
I really just want us to last.
remember when life was easier?
shit. I’m sorry. maybe your life was
never easy at any point, but maybe you
remember days that weren’t full of worry.
days where you had no responsibilities
except breathing, eating, and sleeping.
sometimes, even the sleeping was optional
(at least until you eventually passed out).
I can say that I love my life.
that maybe I’m not happy with where it is,
but I am happy with where it’s going.
it’s just that sometimes
I miss those days that were simple.
wake up, exist, eat, play, dance, sing
close your eyes and go to sleep
because tomorrow’s coming with all the things
you’re looking forward to
and none of the things you’re not.
sometimes you’re too unstable
to make the right decisions.
sometimes sometimes is all the time.
and you remember why you felt broken
in the first place:
because the things that made you happy
don’t make you feel the way you used to.
and you don’t know what to do with that.
and I don’t know what to do with that.
the acrid taste in my mouth
the tingling in my right arm;
reminders that I’m still here…
reminders that I do exist…
sometimes it really doesn’t feel like
sometimes I’d rather it not be true
but it is, and I am here.
and honestly, it feels good to be alive…
it’s always the warm embrace that I miss first.
your lips, and you in between my arms.
it’s likely I’m fighting the urge to consume you;
I’m eager to have all of you. yes, all of you.
because you have piqued my interest and my heart,
and now you’ve become my thoughts at night.
the feeling on my lips whenever my mind drifts
to a place better than where I am.
and it always involves someone else,
but this time it involves you…
and it’s so much better than I ever could have imagined;
this time of night is just so perfect when I’m beside you.
simply asleep, nothing but my scent
and your fragrance and lips that curl into a smile.
stand clear of the doors
because they are closing
the way my heart does:
quickly and without warning.
shutting out any and everybody
still out on the other side while
holding hostage every and anyone
still trapped inside of my chest.
I think it’d be best
if you made the decision.
knowing me, you would be
split by my indecision.
because my decisions are final.
until they’re not, in which case,
I don’t know what to tell you,
except for the fact that I’ve already told you
this is how I am.