There are some nights when loving so many people seems like a curse, though I know it to be a collection too vast of blessings, yet how should I keep my heart from bursting? How should I contain it?
I get overwhelmed with missing, such soft understated things, so that I can’t really describe with poetics or shouting what it is that I long for. Can’t share what I would call beautiful with others because words don’t have the proper depths for moments, or I don’t know them (others seem to do it beautifully). Can’t explain heart expansion, can’t explain mind explosions, and can’t explain yearnings felt with more than one organ at a time.
The relief normally sought out, is so petty in comparison that I feel contempt for shallow release. Some nights I want love and nothing else will do, so I seek the million miracle memories and the high tide waves crash through me. Leave me bruised with love and longing. Leave me close to tears and sometimes flooded, have left me stomach sick, have left me sleep deprived, have left me writing or painting, have left me singing and dancing, have left me stomping through moonlit streets until exhaustion, but not completion. I am a romantic caught up in the body and rules of a shy hurt boy, always stuttering and never in the moment able to proclaim love,
but I feel it.
And of the things that will doom me, I fear it, holds the most strain on my heart and it, only it,
keeps me here.
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