I wish I could be more.
Maybe I do love you
And maybe I do miss you
But maybes are dangerous
And I would rather stay quiet
It’s about who you miss at 2 in the afternoon when you’re busy, not 2 in the morning when you’re lonely.
Daily reminder:
If they wanna talk to you, they will. If they wanna be with you, they will. If they wanna make things work, they will. Don’t let things be one sided. It’s not healthy, and it’s not fair to you.
1. High school spans four years plus however long you wish it to last; it has always been putty in your hands to mold for yourself.
2. Sometimes you just will not get invited.
3. No one tells you how falling out of love with a friend will feel like losing pieces of your whole, like your body is on fire.
4. Your voice is not meant to be an echo.
5. It’s not too late. It is the perfect time to do anything that gets your heart jumping.
6. Your taste in music is good.
7. People can be beautiful to you if you let them see you cry.
8. There are parts of your journals and your memory that no longer hold meaning. You can’t make poems out of them.
9. If he wanted to, he would have.
10. Your body gives away more than you know; shelter the one home you’re guaranteed to have for the rest of your life.
11. Your gut is right.
12. Generations before you are just humans with more life in them. Receive their words wisely.
13. Forgive, but don’t cave.
14. There is still more. There is still so much more.
You – you –
Your shadow is sunlight on a plate of silver;
Your footsteps, the seeding-place of lilies;
Your hands moving, a chime of bells across a windless air.The movement of your hands is the long, golden running of light from a rising sun;
It is the hopping of birds upon a garden-path.As the perfume of jonquils, you come forth in the morning.
Young horses are not more sudden than your thoughts,
Your words are bees about a pear-tree,
Your fancies are the gold-and-black striped wasps buzzing among red apples.
I drink your lips,
I eat the whiteness of your hands and feet.
My mouth is open,
As a new jar I am empty and open.
Like white water are you who fill the cup of my mouth,
Like a brook of water thronged with lilies.You are frozen as the clouds,
You are far and sweet as the high clouds.
I dare to reach to you,
I dare to touch the rim of your brightness.
I leap beyond the winds,
I cry and shout,
For my throat is keen as is a sword
Sharpened on a hone of ivory.
My throat sings the joy of my eyes,
The rushing gladness of my love.How has the rainbow fallen upon my heart?
How have I snared the seas to lie in my fingers
And caught the sky to be a cover for my head? How have you come to dwell with me,
Compassing me with the four circles of your mystic lightness,
So that I say “Glory! Glory!” and bow before you
As to a shrine?Do I tease myself that morning is morning and a day after?
Do I think the air is a condescension,
The earth a politeness,
Heaven a boon deserving thanks?
So you – air – earth – heaven –
I do not thank you,
I take you,
I live.
And those things which I say in consequence
Are rubies mortised in a gate of stone.
What a privilege it was to matter to you.
