Of the way it changes everything.
Builds them into crescendos
Then drop kicks them into black holes millions of light years away.
Their ability to make you feel things.
To love you.
To stop loving you.
To suffocate you with their love until you no longer resemble the person they loved in the first place.
Of art. Of my heart. Of artists and surgeons and architects. Of brilliance. Of passion. Of everyone finding out that I have absolutely no idea about anything or anyone.
Of change. Of nothing ever changing. Of words. And the world. Of light and sound. Of sounds. Especially laughter. Especially the laughter of the ones I love.
Of the ones I love. Of lost. Of possibility. Of brilliance. Of mattering. Of pain. Of my restrictions. Of myself. Of people who say shit like “there’s nothing to fear except fear itself.” When I’m so terrified of every single thing, especially fear itself.
9/30 I have been writing every day I’m just terrified of sharing certain pieces. I’m only sharing this one because I’m terrified. #NaPoMo