to: love that soothes

35

a few weeks ago, i was looking at your photos. i have them in a folder, sorted by date. i clicked on the option for sorting, because i wanted to sort it based on your brightest smile. they don't have it. they don't have this option. therefore i tried to sort them myself. it's hard. you have such a bright smile, one that always comes like a pang; light of sunshine comes through a window when one opens the curtain, soaring throughout the room like it is hope. i don't know which one is the brightest. i like them all the same. 

so i counted them. one smile for monday. one smile for tuesday. one smile for wednesday. one for thursday, friday, saturday and sunday. sometimes it's two on monday and wednesday because those are the hardest days. other times it's three because i am floating and i need to go back to the ground. your smile is this one arrow that points to the ground, one clue i can see clearly, and it has a voice;

here. it's the ground. 

here. can you see it? is it still blurry?

here. it's the ground. come down. there is still me. there is one reason to go back and stuck your feet on the ground.

these days i do not know how to form words. they are all piled into jumbled sentences, never make sense. they scream at me and i stare at them wondering how could shadows be so silent and noisy all at the same time. do you know that when you stare at things too long, you start losing everything you can touch and feel? suddenly your head feels like it is drowning, all your senses gone, and you are nothing but an idea. the shadows, poisonous and intoxicating, filled with whispers that pull you in; here. inside. it's good. it's nothingness. it's good. you don't have to feel.

but then i turn back, and there is you, and your smile too, endearing and captivating. i don't get pulled. i want to see the daylight, i begged, i'm so scared of keep going wrong. your smile, i think they are candles, and they whisper; we'll see daylight. we'll go wrong, and then we'll go right too. i think they are lanterns, in a place consists of messy roads with many dead ends. i think they are christmas lights, along the dark streets made of miseries, showing people how to go home. i think your smile is a warm song in the middle of the night, when lonely people admit in silence that they are lonely. your smile, i think they are wrapped gifts with shiny papers for all the souls who never find home. i think your smile is this one thing that went right when everything was wrong;

i think your smile

is this truth

and honesty

hovering over

all the lies

-- you smiley big boy, happy birthday.