Hysterical letters to my sanity

there are loose strands of your soul in the hair of every person you've loved

like that AA mantra but none of us are ready to admit or even recognize our addictions.

you can feel the impossible events the most
no not the flying type of impossible
or even the kind where all your dreams are crushed
but the little impossible things that sting more than ever
like how you can't change her mind,
how you cannot rewrite the words she wrapped around her head, the ink sunk through the skin and tattoos the soft surface.
you cannot change her mind.
how you cannot make him love you.
no matter how hard you look at him and scream silence into open books
no matter how hard you wish he'd just look at you too.
you cannot make him love you.
you can't change the choices others make,
the stories that overlap yours are still not yours,
you just cross paths
cross paths on a journey that's slicked with wonder
the impossible sounds like a mission and a trap
if all the things that we cannot change are the hardest things to experience
why must we believe we can change it.

you do not love her anymore.
you wish you could look at her and cry to the heavens because she is your everything.
but you cannot love her anymore
you wish and pray you could see inside the mind of the man who looks at the moon.
i want to howl with it.
the impossible tricks are the hardest to master.
i hope you are not impatient for the praise and weak through the pain.
i hope you suffer in peace.
i hope all the impossible things that find their way under your skin and nails and caught in between your eyelashes
i hope you spread them out on your finger tips and blow them away
you can at least accept that.