multicolored thought

These years have aged you, my friend, but your heart remains the same.

If it were possible in any other time
I would like to burn the stars out of the sky for you
until their brilliance eradicates
every darkness from your heart.
Let their heat purify you, scorch you,
evaporate you, make you become transcendent
away from this small world.
Let something new be reborn in you
again and again.
So that for one moment, in that endless sky
you become everything I see.

These eyes don’t see you because you have become something they cannot comprehend. They reject you, repulsed by your strangeness, your foreignness, the way a body may reject a transplanted heart. What are you? These eyes have rejected you after finding no answer to this question. I do not see you. You have become the epitome of all that is ignored.

These distractions are unwarranted, sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just gave them all up. All the distractions gone. Even this. Maybe life would make more sense then. Where would you even start though? To fix the mind is no light task.

You know, I could give this all away for you.
I haven’t yet. But you still wait.
What does that say about me?
What does that say about you? 

There is something so warm in her laughter. She probably doesn’t notice and it escapes her like the embarrassed giggle of a child. There was always something childlike about her, I forget sometimes that we are the same age. I often try to get her to talk to me just so I could get a few moments of her being candid, or spontaneous, or say something unexpected and follow it with that laughter of hers.

There is an understanding between us, though we rarely see eye to eye. But I suppose that in some ways we were always meant to be like this. It is a destiny shared from infancy. She’ll probably never know but I love her all the same.

We have grown out of the era of playing pretend.
There is no patience for that now.
There is only longing.
Pretending, wishing, hoping is not enough.

It’s not enough. 

In some ways you will always be part of me.
An indisputable part. And in this way
we will always be connected. 

It’s crazy, you know? I don’t think
I ever actually said how much you
mean to me. Just assumed
you knew.

Now you’re gone and, sometimes,
I wonder if I was wrong. 

Let your breathing slow down, at times
and remain still, in this moving world.
To be the spectator is
a completely different experience.
It’s okay, every once in a while
to empty yourself of all the
troubling concern.
Speak less, they will understand you,
nonetheless. Your words will take
different forms.

Fly away on the summer breeze
and keep flying. Spend a day
or two with unabashed optimism.
Leave the questions behind,
not everything needs answers.

And in your darkest times,
keep somewhere in the corner
of your self, all you were ever
inspired to do. 

I remember the moment
I looked up one night
and witnessed,
for the very 
first time,
not a dark sky
but a
sea of stars.

And the sheer splendor
of that sight, held me
with my neck craned
up, hands cupped
around my eyes
straining to see.
See it all.