I must remember this:

I’m under renovation. I hung a sign - “It’s dusty. It’s broken. It’s under construction. You were warned.” I didn’t think STAY OUT would have done the job. I’ve always been wordy. I wake up every morning to a mind full of weird mechanical tools, I don’t know their names. By 9 o’clock they have knocked down my skull and trashed the insides of my skin until all that’s left are the original cells, the ones I was born with. I am stripped and barren. The essentials are all that remain and I can feel an empty wind blow through. And I’m renewed. Let’s see what’s left and try to make something of the healthy rubble at the bottoms of my feet. Rebuild until I’m reborn. Born into a structure I care to live in once again. Make me liveable. Make Me.

Fireworks pop outside my walls like gunshots through my calloused heart I have been hardening for the past few days, refusing entry to even my most lovely companions Maybe its for safe-keeping or because I’m a fucking asshole

That thing they say, about waking up one day and realizing that everything has changed, is true. Maybe everything hasn’t changed but the cherry blossoms bloomed and died, now they’re just shriveled brown velvet. And your siblings are no longer innocent but ignorant, they’re smiles morphing into destructive grins. You’ll find that you no longer look up at your mother but right into every part of her, you’ll see her whole humanity. Then the days will slow and the moon will attend to the sky much too shortly. Time will slowly weave itself into the lines of your face, inching it’s way close to your breast and heart. That’s when you’ll feel it right inside you, in the deepest core of yourself. It may feel like a pressure or tug, at least that’s what it was for me, it was unsettling in a completely awful and heartbreaking. Something had left me and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back because I had given it away without even noticing.

And when I said I would make time I meant it, but then the world outside my window started spinning and my life became a ticking clock - ticktockticktock. I swear this wasn’t my life two weeks ago. It may possibly be a strangers life still, but I don’t think my heart will give in as my body has. This being true I will withstand all energy’s against me through this change.

It’s like this overwhelming surge of weight squeezing my lungs closer to my heart. And when my throat closes my arms begin to tingle with restless feeling. If only I could escape my body. Maybe my mind too, because as my stomach twists so does my skull.

Her heart remained broken after the age of three, because that’s all it took. The little boy didn’t share his dump truck and she cried. That was the first time her heart was broken, from then on she was never meant to be a whole-hearted girl. For years and years she revelled in the loneliness of her broken heart until she lay on her deathbed. She lay there and realized that every living heart had been broken at a tender age. There had been no cure for the brokenness, no avoiding it, not for anyone, and so she lived in a world of brokenhearted nations. This made her scream. She balled up her fists and hollered out the anguish of a lifetime of loneliness because as her heartbeat finally slowed she realized she was never really alone at all. 

Beige walls. Warm tea with milk. Milky Milk. Cold milk. White milk. White closets. White mattress. White. Black. Night. Cracked moon. White. Black. Black glasses.  Breakable frames. Breakable hearts. Red hearts. Alive. Pumping, ready, steady hearts. Blue blood. Blue poster. Vincent van Gogh’s almond blossoms. White blossoms. Bed blossoms. Budding skin and blooming eyelids. Awake, a waking spring. - I said WAKE.

I am forever the boy that catches butterflies in fields and spends nights wishing on shooting stars, more so I am unabashedly glad for this. I am glad because my parents are the opposite of this. My parents despise the universe. They are determined to believe that the universe has a dark plan tucked behind pockets of exploding stars within intricate bodily systems, a plan that will cause my parents to violently burst. This has made them afraid and being afraid has made them disappear. They have hid inside office buildings for years at a time until their faces sag and wrinkle pointlessly. 

… I started writing something today.

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let me hear this.
Baby, darling, sweetheart, my precious love, lay down next to me and hold my hand until you fall asleep. Rest for a little while. Then I will wake you in the early morning, just before the sun rises, with kisses on you neck and my tongue on your collarbone. Baby, darling, I’m going to want to ravish you. Are you listening? Close your eyes, but listen to me. I want to taste the sweat on your skin and feel the heat from your bones until there is a fire between our bellies. Love, you know that spot, that spot that you like. Yes, that one. I’ll kiss it. I’ll kiss it until your toes curl and your fingertips crush the solar systems in your palms. I want to hear you whisper my name as your chest heaves, I want to hear your lungs beg for air between kisses across puffy pink lips. There will be fog in the windows of your eyes and I’ll hold you so close. So fucking close, darling, your curves and crevices will drink in mine until they are parched. And once your satisfied I will start again. And again. Then one more time, until our hands lock above our heads as I whisper “thank you” and “I love you” just as the sun coats our skin in light. Sweetheart, how does that sound?

I’m sleepy. It’s like a fog has built around my ankles and twisted up the length of my body, inch by inch, crawling into the crevices of my skull. It lingers there until my eyes start to barely dangle like stars above my muddy eyes. I become paralyzed by drifting moisture, and with it comes thunder and lightening causing my thoughts to shrivel like flowers evading a tornado. And when I wake that’s all I can remember, weather approaching me like a country at war, looking for a fight, and getting defeat. 

That’s the plan - find meaning and contentment in the things I learn each day. Learn to laugh at the world’s unusual tilt, while understanding the dark mist hovering over our feet.  Discover the paradox of the universe. The insignificance of my atoms in a place with multiple planets, suns, moons, multiple existence’s. And still recognizing my profound impact on the space around me, on the people I pass on the street and the one’s nurturing my heart. When the sun and moon rise I hope to discover something new for myself because I know our lives are likely a repetition of historical lives. Yet that comforts me as I sift through past universes and realize that on a scale of 10, 000 years I am but a speck on a speck. I figure that’s not just something I should accept, but something that I need to soak in with every pore of my body because it is a beautiful fact. We are but a small part of the history of the milky-way and the explosions of stars and the energy on earth. We join the stories in the fight to save the north pole and the war to find peace and the tradition to prove God and the the pursuit to find happiness. We claim land and disclaim entertainment. Our spirits, souls, bodies, minds, come together to start revolutions and reveal evolutions. It’s this cycle, or maybe infinite continuation of stunning perspectives, and so my plan is to remember this, and learn this, and live this.

I want the sunshine in my bed
when the moon is above my head.
Love me, won’t you
until the skies turn true blue.

What would you do if there were no laws? If the government was but a speck in a dark history and we were a population of constant constellations exploding, what would you do? Laws of Nature say that we would become barbarians, searching for scraps of life, using our ribs to create fire. Most would die. It would be an anarchy of self-destructing universes. Pop. Boom. Bang. Is that what you believe would happen?

He said, “will you marry me?” and she laughed.
She laughed because to her they had never been otherwise. “Our souls have been married for centuries. In multiple universes. And surrounded by multiple suns and rocks and life forms,” she said.
When he looked back at her he brushed hair from her eye, slipped his mother’s ring on her finger and kissed her temple. “I know, my darling.”