Sonder

I am sorry,

Stranger passing by-

The streets are damp 

The city is loud

Everyone looks gray 

Yet, our eyes still meet
I am sorry, stranger 

Who’s eyes are as sad as mine 

Are you wondering too?

Wondering what could be troubling me too?
Stranger, person passing by;

Do my eyes also make you question this sonder feeling?
I am sorry, stranger 

For all of the wrong situations you will meet 
I am sorry, friend 

I should have said “hello”

I am sure you can resonate 

With this world being gray to you, too. 

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Simple Complexity 

 At the mark of 4:36pm, I wake up from a three hour nap. I lay still in my bed, knees to chest as I continue to tell myself I am going to get up, while it gradually gets darker outside. The spot of light projecting onto my heavy blankets slowly depletes as I remember my reason to nap in the first place.

What a cold, but beautiful morning it was. I love waking up to the person I love. I skipped the gym to get a coffee and soup with a friend, I even enjoyed the jazzy Christmas music in the Café. 

When I return home, I sit in silence before receiving a phone call from a close friend. My main focus is typically others well-being in conversation, making me unprepared for his simple question of; “are you okay?”. Supposedly, I sounded “off”.

Of course I am, but I cried anyway, and explained that I only needed to push the anxiousness away in this moment, it serves no purpose. 

I ended the phone call to have my four minutes of tears and began emerging into the thoughts of; “Maybe I am just on this earth to feel these things and educate.” 

Maybe so, but I caught myself anyways. I will never let these feelings and thoughts consume my life ever again, but I have to acknowledge them. 

The hard truth is, these are a variety of symptoms I live with, and must learn how to coexist with them.

Of course, panic strikes me when these emotions resurface. Though, I know that it is normal. Maybe not compared to other individuals lives, but my own. Maybe it does make me feel “strange” or look “strange” as an individual, but the important thing is that overall, aside from mental-illness-ick beyond my control, I am incredibly happy. 

Repulsively Corny 

 Baby, I wrote you this cheesy love poem,
Because life doesn’t feel real to me right now

It’s like being in a movie with you, and I really like how we feel.

I turn into a teenage girl in a famous 80’s romcom

-the one who is painting her nails in her bedroom, listening to The Cars. 

Smiling about the notes passed in class. 

My life changing when I see you, again. 

Everything about this life turns into a love story. 

You.

My breath of fresh air that kept me from suffocating. Yes, technically nothing matters, except the things ourselves make matter. What matters to me, is you. 

You and I holding hands and emerging into our consistently changing world. 

It’s Not You It’s Me 

I noticed you crying in the backseat on our way to my home far away. Our depart.

I watched you wipe the skin under your eyes silently, you have always had a hard time crying. I have always admired the positivity, but feel sorrow when it hurts you. 

I said nothing, because I know what you were thinking. You were feeling, remembering, and learning.