poems for you. always for you. ✓

t a k e - s p a c e

sometimes

I think I'm "too much",

and I curl into myself,

pulling in all my limbs

to make myself fit inside the lines,

packing my mind into a box,

trying to squeeze in love, ideas, thoughts;

but my arms and legs and body and mind

that I shove quietly into the corner

are clouds gathering for a storm,

darkness rattling in its core,

and a storm is something that expands,

drowning out the sun and sky

without caring what child will cry

when they see its lightning

sending silver streaks against the night,

and I let myself unfold, unravel, expand