Life on a tightrope

We spend our lives on a tightrope.

One side is dying without finding your purpose;

The other side is finding it and ending your quest of discovery too soon.

The problem is we often lean over too far,

Grasping at possible answers.

We do this because we think we need a purpose to continue walking.

We forget the reason we’re walking is because we don’t have a purpose,

The reason we haven’t fallen is because we don’t have a purpose.

Fireflies

I did not know it then,

At the lake,

Beneath the stars.

Too consumed by fireflies,

That darted between us,

Illuminating your face,

In quick flicks of neon.

But now,

I wish I could replay that night,

On a big screen,

Alone in a theater,

Over and over again,

Until I remembered:

Every word,

Every movement,

Every feeling.

But we seldom realize in the moment,

That this is our last moment.

It’s tragic irony,

That the most important last moments

Are also the most mundane.

We focus on fireflies,

Not on the person we love,

Not on the person we will never see again,

Not on our last moment.

Because we do not know it then.

Palpitations

I try to quell the throbbing in my throat,

The one that beats with a jagged rhythm,

Like a drummer sitting on my windpipe,

Thrumming a muddled song.

He starts without warning, without proper reason.

Always waiting in the wings,

For his captive audience.

I wish I could ignore him,

Or abolish him completely.

But for now,

All I can do is slide down a white pill

Ending the show,

Before it builds to a symphony.

Improbable beauty

There’s beauty in the improbability of human life,

In the planet being just the right distance from the sun,

In the air being just the right mixture of gases,

In our species evolving in just the right way to be you and me.

And yet you say we will never work,

But there’s beauty in the improbability

Of human life,

Of you and me.

Different person living inside

I drove by your house today.

There’s a different person living inside.

But it looks the same,

Same door, same roof, same rooms.

I could still find my way through it with my eyes closed.

Like I could still find you in a crowded room,

Same look, same smell, same touch.

But you wouldn’t be the same.

There’s a different person living inside.

I drove by you today.

In my dreams

My unconscious mind still sees you.

It finds you crouching behind my first car,

Or standing in a closet of my first apartment,

Or slithering between birthdays and holidays.

I’ve tried so hard to hide you,

In the dark corners of my mind,

Surrounded by trauma and fear,

Where I rarely go.

But you still find your way back to the forefront.

I say it’s you, but it’s really me.

I bring you back each time,

Because as hard as I try to hide you,

I try even harder to find you.