It’s important to be affected by things,
to feel them deep where it can be uncomfortable for them to get in.
It’s important
for the world to touch you.
And it’s no more important for it to make you happy
than it is to make you sad.
Because bearing the burden of blue in your chest
doesn’t mean you will always feel its weight.
Because being buoyed by golden thermals across a summer sky
doesn’t mean you will never again be draped in grey,
and when the red of you has cooled
to the slate dusk of despair,
it is never long before it warms, once more,
to the orange of sunrise

We forget, in these moments,
that moments are all these are.
That we exist in a transitional state,
floating always
between one moment, and the next.
And all of the colors that we move through
that are meant to move through us
only get stuck,
if we never let them in