words put together

i'd share my ice cream with you

waking up on time is hard to say.
i close my eyes afraid of another day.
i toss,
and i turn,
and i wonder,
and i burn
at the thought of more pain
shooting through my weak veins.

thinking about another day
where i have to be myself
and i can't be anyone else.

that sucks.

a lot.

right before i fall asleep
i gather all the thoughts that make me weak
and i bundle them up,
squeeze them in my hands,
watch them slip and disappear between my fingers like sand,
and i pick them back up
and i find myself looking back at another sliver of hope.

every day,
i wake up hard.
i dread the idea of the day even at all.
but something about you makes the thoughts not so dreadful.

i don't know what it is,
and i don't know how you did it,
but i can't seem to say that waking up is as hard as it once was last month.

you can smile
and everything that hurts kind of numbs for a while.
and when you look at me
with your big, dough eyes,
i swear to god
all this art,
all this pain,
all this time and effort and hurt and shame,
just disappears-
flies away,
and all i feel is the wind it leaves,
and holy shit the wind it leaves makes me feel like i can't even bleed-

it's so beautiful.

finding the words to ways you make me stay
is harder than waking up on any given day,
but i promise you i'll wake up each day,
one day more,
one day short,
some days hard,
and sometimes too fast,
but i'll wake up each time
and i'll try my hardest to find the words to describe how you make waking up a little bit easier every single day.