truce » poetry

a waste of space and an impasse

hello, i am empty.
my fingertips look like my chest because they are deserts, expanding, waving, orange-yellow-pale-youreyesbecauseiseeyoueverywhere. my fingertips look like you, and i wish they didn't, but i'm glad they do because they look like us and all i've wished for is us because we remain me / and / you.

but hello, i am empty. i am quiet.
where has all the noise gone? packed its bags and got on the farthest flight to places that make me cry to think about because my walls are painted with other places but they are not suspended.

why can't i write? why did you have to take my motivation with you if we don't even know each  other? it's unfair and my body temperature is nearing one hundred degrees, one hundred and eighty degrees because who knows, maybe soon i'll be crying.

because i'm so confusing. like trying to read a map while driving when you've only ever heard siri telling you when to turn right in six hundred feet. but hun, i ain't in drive. i'm in park. a fact.

always, always.

are we at an impasse? truth is, i'm plateauing and you're waiting for direction to shape up, for art and wealths of meaning to take place, but i'm on a ledge. we're going up a mountain and falling down but for now i'm just chilling.

we're always on the move, you know? we wanna reach the stars because of their beauty but their beauty comes because we can't reach them, because we never will. we don't need to have everything because then there'd be no point of breathing.

i'm gonna curl up and take a nap in this impasse, on this ledge. i'll see you again when i resume the climb up the mountain, or, more likely, the fall down.

remember: we don't need everything.