27 years old.

I ran a marathon and got back in therapy. I started taking prozac and got back in track to finish a fucking degree (third time's the charm I guess). 

I feel like I'm good at my job and I like where I'm living. It looks like me. It feels like me. There's books and plants everywhere. It smells like coffee and incense and whatever I'm cooking.

I looked at the eyes I love and was honest and good. I opened my heart truly and loved harder than I ever had before. Unconditionally. Consciously. With all and with nothing.

I laughed and kissed and danced and drank. I cried and I consoled myself as if I were my own parent. I broke rules and hearts and glasses. 

I hugged my friends and looked into their eyes and told them that I love them. I teared up and missed the ones no longer near.

I helped create little surprises for others, cherishing the smiles and the true happiness. I held hands in the dark and cursed evil doers away. I weaved pine needles and cinnamon sticks into charms. I drew pentacles and sigils.

I told stories to children, I gave little parts of my heart, wrapped in the prettiest of fabrics just for them. I sang songs and baked goods, painted weird pictures.

I have smiled so hard my cheeks hurt and I have ran so far my muscles gave in for a couple weeks. I forgave. 

I cleaned cuts and gashes. I let mine be cleaned and cured. I listened and cuddled and made love. 

27 years. Feels like a milestone.

I made it out of hell once. Ten years ago. I never believed it would have gotten this good. 

I hope the next ten are even better.

 

It had been a while since I last felt this much fucking purpose. Purpose and confidence in myself (probably more than ever before). I feel like I'm doing things right. I'm checking off things I didn't think I could actually ever do. I'm less afraid of the cards that make up the castle collapsing all around me. This structure feels sturdy. And if they were to fall, I feel strong enough to move out of the rubble.

Maybe I just needed drugs all along.

 I know I'm too soft and willing to fix the hurt that you carry, I know myself for being too nosy, too easily involved, too eager to make myself your answer. 

I open up my heart and you take out the blood, like a transplant, like you need it more than I do. I find myself looking back at my mistakes, and how many are tied to my softness, to letting you live in my soul forever, the gaping wound that I don't let myself heal from because if I did, where would you keep yourself? 

They wouldn't take care of you like I do.

Not without these splintered fingers, these thorned arms.

 I'm mine.

But we can say I'm yours when I'm inside your embrace, when your breath is on my neck, when you force my sight into your gorgeous eyes and smile your devilish grin.

 I'm sorry all the time, I'm ashamed of my humanity, I don't want to bother, I don't want to be a story of someone annoying that you tell to people you like more than me, I'm always sure that people don't like me, maybe they're pretending, maybe it's an inside joke, you're nice to me because it's funny, it's funny because I want to believe it, I'm sorry.

You and I are riding a car somewhere 

and you keep telling me how much you love me 

How much –this time– you're willing to love me

I can't take it anymore

I get down on the busiest street

When the traffic light turned red

and I walk around the car to get to the sidewalk 

Your door gets stuck

You look at me , expecting me to help

to open the door for you 

to pull you out with me

Light turns green

I smile at you

I wave my little hand goodbye

And let you go on

 

You taste like July
like the heat of the sun
warmth as if you were laying under it
you seem to carry it in the freckles of your back

You kiss like there's no tomorrow
like you don't know the definition
of being lukewarm,
you only know the crashing of a wave:
unstoppable, destructive, beautiful

You toss me as the ocean currents
like I'm weightless
as if your strenght came from within
from the passion that you carry
gravity, directing your every move

You touch me like I'm precious
As if you want to bury yourself under my skin
to live inside this body
yours doesn't seem to be enough if mine's around
like the ocean foam finding a way between my toes

I don't miss the ocean when you're near
you're made of moody, roaring tide

I want to swim in you