too dangerous of a venture

you were the fingers interlaced

inside my fingers.

the smile

on my face.

the risk

i was willing to take.

i was afraid,

like you.

but i was more curious than my fear.

while you let your worry get the best of you.

worry of the future

of what you might miss out on.

your own worst critic,

something i am not unfamiliar with.

but i have learned to embrace my flaws,

while you drown in the insecurity of yours.

playing it safe,

so what you missed out on

was every unfamiliar piece of me.

house frame

 

i never liked long lines.

Processed with VSCO with g3 preset

there is the uncertainty-

the questions we ask,

the judgement we give,

in a world where maybe comes before yes,

and the buffet of choices is so large,

it would take weeks to walk through the line,

our trays overflowing,

pesto noodles, two people

and three jobs on the floor,

thoughts pondering,

mind wavering,

heart questioning.

who am i?

we ask,

is this right?

its so loud-

all of this uncertainty.

but,

love is louder.

so much louder.

growing up and away

1.

moving away to new places

and losing what became like a home,

only to recognize that it was always just a house.

some things stay the same

like the food i can get at the grocery store

and my dog sleeping in my bed,

but most of it doesn’t

and i don’t quite know how to grasp that sometimes.

i want transformation

and i want to grow,

but losing anything good in the process breaks my heart.

i see now that it is impossible not to.

that i have lost friends and loved ones

to distance that is physical or emotional.

you, and him and her.

 

2.

i’m sitting in my new apartment

looking out the window at the trains going by,

thinking this is so peaceful,

but also

it makes me cry,

because this view

means something new.

and i’m not quite ready to feel so uneasy again.

 

worry

he leaned over the stair railing, crying.

“there is somebody up here. can you please come up here?”

“no,” she said.

“there is nobody up there.”

“you’re letting the worry win.”

it was the most profound thing i’ve ever heard a sixth grader say.

“don’t let the worry win.”

my bedroom at night

an old camera rests on the desk,

with an attachable flash on the top

ready to take a picture of the petals when they open,

ready to watch the world through its lens.

the room is lit just enough

so that you can see the outline of colors around you,

but not enough

that you feel the heaviness of day.

millennial war

xanax,

the nervous system

as calm as a lake,

while tsunamis are brewing in the ocean.

they say

“don’t do this.”

“don’t do that.”

“be like this.”

“grow up.”

who are we supposed to be

i don’t really know.

do you?

other than entitled.

the generation of lazy children

taking too long to become adults.

but what about the positives?

they never seem to matter as much.

benzodiazepines,

SSRIs,

anti-depressants,

adderall,

THC.

the most reliable friends we have.

 

stream of consciousness 3

because maybe you were attracted to their physical features

like maybe they had a perfect nose or something

but also maybe something perfect inside of them too

that you’re not sure of yet

you owe it to yourself as a human

to say “i’m committed to getting to know you”

you are not afraid of commitment

you are afraid of what you are going to miss

and maybe you’ve been calling it being picky or something like that

but maybe its not that at all.