love is bliss

                                                                                                                    If I ever push you away,

                                                                                                                        I don’t really mean to.

When I tell you I don’t want to talk about it,

I do, I am just looking for the right words.

Give me a minute;

if I can tell you, I will.

I am struggling to be a mix of real

and compassionate at the same time.

At the moment,

I am working on a balance.

When I get quiet sometimes

it is because I have too much to say

or nothing to say at all.

Other times,

I have thought of too many things to tell you

and I don’t know what to say first.

I get immaturely jealous of anyone

who gets to see you on a daily basis.

I miss you really easily.

but I also like that we can be

        a          p         a          r           t

and we are both okay.


space                                                                       is good, too.

I love the way

we love some of the same things.

I love how

we love entirely different things.

My head

(most days)

is a complicated pile of





this tangled up nostalgia for the past,


the future.

I am flawed,


I am a human.

I am broken,


I am trying.

I am one person,

two hands,


I am one heart.

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