Pen to paper.

Write to remember. Remember not to build homes out of the fleeting. Remember that settling for measly crumbs will only lead you to the witch and her gingerbread house in the woods. Remember that when people tell you they’re incapable of change, it’s probably best to believe them. Remember that the smell of smoke means a burning castle, or a broken, freckled prince holding a metaphorical cigarette, saying, “If I cut these wrists, would they bleed the blackest ink? Would they leave a perpetual stain on the threads of the tapestry woven by these unsteady hands?”
Write to forget. Forget the nightmares that anchor you to the ground. Forget how every inch of skin ached at the sight of a former lover. Forget the lies that you have mistaken for the truth. Forget how vile this world can be for allowing the loneliness to take up space on the empty side of your bed.
Set those thoughts to paper, write it all out. Let your pen bleed what your mouth refuses to speak. Set in longhand the pain that cripples the heart, clouds the mind, weakens the soul. Write down the past and leave it there. Write down affirmations that let the light in. Darkness is a mere specter. It’s an abstract abyss. It will only wield power if you let it. Photosynthesis that shit. Write down the words: I am enough.
I am enough.

Just friends.

We could be lovers,
but we’re not.
We lull sweet adulation to sleep.
There may never be a future here,
or is there?
For now,
let’s not give in to the deep.
I am neither yours,
nor are you mine.
Yet our souls make love to each other like martyrs,
like vagabonds in reverie.
I’ve studied your freckles like the constellations a thousand times,
how they dance in my mind.
Fall victim to my yearning heart.
Seep into the textures of me.

Rapture.

When the soul has known darkness like art, silence swells up until it fills the lungs. All you will hear is the euphony of your teardrops and the crashing of your heart. Our folly is love, its fodder is touch. We are starving with mouths filled to the corners of our lips, yet the words will never reach the surface. Speak now, hold me now, I beg, lest we give in to the rapture of the deep.