Trying to grow without love
is like asking a flower
to grow without sunlight,
with only the rain

and while there are some that thrive in darkness
there are others that will be stunted,
forever brittle, forever greyed,
forever searching
for the white heat of the sun

and terrified,
when they find it

More coins were dropped on the pavement today. And somewhere, on the other side of the world, someone’s looking for their keys. People are hurting or laughing, or both, everywhere you look, and the Earth keeps turning.

And elsewhere,
in this very same universe,
stellar bodies much larger than our sun
are collapsing. They’re folding in on themselves
like atom bombs,
black holes blooming in their oblivion.
An agony so massive it disrupts time itself;
pulls at space like it were something you could bend in your hands.
A void is birthed of a loss so profound,
it swallows everything.
Unquenchable in its hunger,
unmatched, in its ability to destroy

and the Earth keeps turning

We’re on a couch somewhere, with our feet up,
watching something stupid on TV
and we’re laughing
and for the first time in a long time,
something feels simple

We’re on a couch somewhere,
and there’s wine in our cheeks
and cracks in our hearts
that don’t feel so deep when we’re together

Our words move easily here, like breathing,
like an exhale from some center part of us
that can be hard to reach

You’re leaning on me,
on a couch somewhere,
and you’re not afraid of getting hurt.
You’re not afraid,
of being so close to me

there are grooves that time has loved, deep,
into your pages,

memories, that warm the color
of your skin.

There are notes you’ve scribbled
in the margins,
soft strokes of ink to part,
each moment, from the last.

There are words that you keep hidden,
like secrets in your bones,

and you,
are the only story
I want to read

I prefer the questions sometimes,
to the burden of knowing.

For while they persist, unanswered,
all possibilities remain

and then at some point you realize,
that none of us know

that our lives are a series of chances we take
on one another

that all we ever have is a good feeling
and the choice
of whether to follow our heart,
or turn away from it

And sometimes we take a chance on someone
and against all odds,
against every sliver of possibility
that person decides,
to take a chance on us too.

And other times,
they don’t