An Analysis

When you said, "At the end of the day, you're the person I want to just crawl into bed with." I heard more than just the words that you said.

The end of the day. When the world has tired you out, when the sun goes down, when the night swallows the earth. When there's nowhere else to go.

You want me.

I.

You. Only you.

Just, crawling. Dragging yourself. When your body is so tired, but your last wish of the day is to drag yourself near to me. You would spend your last burst of energy of the day, just to be closer. To me.

Into bed. Into comfort. Into closeness.

What you didn't say, spoke so loud to me in that sentence.

What moves me the most, is your honesty. Your honest longing for me.

You make me melt.

Now

*Author's Note: I am writing this as it is happening, sitting at work, listening to the radio.

Keys and pedals

So mechanical

Make such a symphony

As the evening feels

A saxophone plays

And blue streaks

Cross my eyes

How can I swim

In a sound

The tapping of symbols

I can feel the concentration

In every note

So focused, yet

So effortless

Jazz isn't a horizontal line

It is many

Diagonal lines

The lines travel 

So quickly

But they never cross

I know how it feels

To be the breath

Traveling

Through each instrument

Paced

I could stay here

I could feel this way

Until I cease

Consumed

By uniform sound

Yellow

Today, I am yellow
I'm the feeling you get
When you hear strings
Strumming
Humming

I am yellow
That fuzzy feeling
In your chest
When you smell
Coffee brewing
Steaming

The excitement
And calm
When you draw your shades
And your skin
Reaches for sunbeams

Yellow is
My favorite color
To feel
To be

Swallow.

I want to crawl outside of the walls of my mind and  be swallowed by everything I do not understand.

Today, I Choose

When I die, everything that I ever was dies with me. And now, while I'm living, everything that I am is simply alive within my own infinity. My infinity is on a completely different timeline than any other individual's infinity. I am within the infinity of the universe, and also within the infinity of my own existence, and my existence is wavering. I could cease to exist at any moment, yet, I spend my infinity choosing to care about the thoughts and opinions of someone else, who could also cease to exist at any moment. Why do I do this? Why do I spend my time, of which I am uncertain I even have, filling my head with the concern that someone could decide that they aren't fond of what I choose to do, or think, or wear, or say, or feel.

Today, I chose to cease to exist in any other infinity outside of my own. I don't know what that means quite yet, or how my timeline shifts, or if I get a bigger or smaller infinity because of it, but what I do know; my existence isn't so unbearable anymore.

Impossible

It's like being nowhere, and everywhere. Being with you, is to be nowhere, except for with each other. Everything passes, quickly and silently. While time stops simultaneously. You're a wonderful paradox, a theory, a home, a sanctuary. You're so IMPOSSIBLE, yet you're the realest thing I've ever known. What an honor. To be living, breathing, suffering, loving, laughing; all with you. A universe, with a heartbeat.

Blinding

I long to see sounds.

I'm convinced your name would blind me.

I would gladly suffer through.

Unmoving

How can you do that

How do you keep on doing it

How do you make me 

A fire

Freeze

And melt

Like I was always a river

Flowing into you

How do you make me

Run over your skin

Wade in me

Feel me

I'm eroding the Earth beneath me

Yet still

You influence

My every wave

Falling

Don't fall in love with a writer. They'll create you, and keep you, and hold you with their words. And with the same tongue, they'll kiss you, and taste you, and break you.