So Much White Noise 


Symphonies and melodies. Crescendos awash, the shores of my mind are inundated in the salty spray of your laughter. It is not kind. You are… not kind today. But you are always beautiful, the kind of beautiful that blots out the sun and makes the moon shamefacedly turn away. And you smile, so sweet that the music playing around us reduces to much white noise. The world except the space between us, is undefined space. The few inches between our hands, an expectant canvas. I inch my hesitant fingers, stained with hopeful colors, forward to you. Dare I mark you, the way you’ve already marked me? I almost do. I almost touch you- but you do not let me begin my masterpiece. You laugh, and the images come crashing down, and you return my broken fingers to me. 
I hear glass tinkling, and you chuckling sardonically. I hear my happiness. The rest is just so much white noise.

Becoming 


It will hurt. 

It will be a burden. 

It will pain your bones to 

carry your thoughts 

-it will lessen 

You will endure 

You will survive 

Bent is not broken 

– It’s okay to have been numb 

But you’re alive 

And you’re fighting 

And you will

Become 

-y