into sentences filling up smiles with worry because I've forgotten something and that.
Sloppy handwriting because my hand is finally hurting, but there's no peace in being really sad and this. Reminders are lines on a paper, and I empty, then fill in the gaps because I still want it whole even when I know it'll last like it's new. I sometimes pull it out, dwell on every detail, pretend to change what I cannot, I put it back because it feels too worn out and too precious to ruin with my regrets and bad confusions.
I've learned being fragile doesn't mean easily breakable, it means not touching anything because everything changes. It means you're untouchable and unmovable because staying close to what you're missing is like being there again. Keeping that place warm even when it's already cold.
I like to dwell on everything because I don't know what it's like anymore. The world is already gone, and didn't leave anything behind when it moved on so it's easy to forget. Sometimes holding on to something so tightly can lose its textures and colors, making something up to replace what's lost from being too close.
Memories aren't meant to grow old, but I want them to.
YOU ARE READING
dirt & human
PoetryThis collection has the dirt for my grave and my soul for God but when it rains there's meaning for my muddy heart. (Some of the poems are older and published already, I moved them to this collection, so if you recognize a poem that's why.)
