I remember this
silly depression creeping in
when I have hours
& see them bent on the ground with my anxiety
& a voice in my head
which I'm not really sure is my own says:
why can't you just fucking do it
do what you're supposed to
why can't you
do what responsible people do;
water your plants
pay your bills
leave early
meet deadlines
look like the walking dead in line
waiting for normal shit
why can't you
do what you're supposed to
but then I start to get defensive
I say I'm young &
I've made it farther than some.
My love would pay all bills
& cross off all to dos
if that's how you measure success.

I love writing because it's passive aggressively romantic,
just like me.
I'm telling you, but I'm not really saying it.
You're reading my words in your head.
You're doing it right now
& I love you for that.

Petty emotions are hard to let go of,
We like to hold hands sometimes,
& though it feels good at the time,
It's never meant to last.
If it does for you,
Then come on, you're forcing it
& the point youre trying to make.
I know it's seductive at first,
But
Real love
Adapts
Evolves
Moves.
Real love does not sit,
Sunken in the past is no place for it.
Real love might even watch you leave
If it means making you happy.
Real love speaks for itself,
It says with a special kind of chemistry in my skin
Your stories, your reactions,
Your touch, the way you move,
The everything about you,
Craves presence in my life.
Even if sometimes that means
Disrupted days
& not always the same page,
There is something about the way you are existing in this world
That makes me want to watch how it plays out.