Consume Me (Poem)

I don't know if you read this anymore. I guess I certainly hope you do, even though I haven't updated it in almost a month. Anyway, I wrote the following a couple weeks ago. I promise I am doing my best to look up...

(Also, it won't let me write after what I pasted for some reason, so I'll just say it now.. I hope you're safe and happy. I really do.)

Title: Consume Me

I need something else to consume me. I need to let the right one in. I need to let another one in. I need to let anyone in. I need to let everyone in. I need to jump out a window. I need to land on my feet. I need to break an ankle. I need to climb up a tree. I need to live there for 3 years. In a forest. Where I can only hear the sound of the wind and my breath. And fire popping. And storms dropping barrels of snow on all the trees and all the wheat. I need to edit myself. My life. I need to learn and know and come to terms with the fact that I can’t edit my life. That my life is just as much ahead of me as it is behind me. That my life has short term relevance. That the universal (and I mean that in the cosmic sense) time span is not the one that should be on the forefront of my mind. That trees are beautiful today. That my family is beautiful today. That my hands are beautiful today. That my voice is beautiful today. That when I go for a run and I get bugs in my teeth and my knee hurts and the suns in my eyes and my legs won’t go as fast I want and my mind keeps thinking evil and the spaces between my fingers are sweaty and slippery and annoying, that it makes everything else a little better, and feeds me some protein while I’m at it. I need to learn to not have to remind myself that my friends are beautiful. That they love me. That even though being asleep in my bed may feel like the only thing that can comfort me, it’s not, and they’re only a phone call or a short drive away. Or bike ride. Or walk. And that for every time I look back in my past and have cried, there have been ten thousand times more that I couldn’t help but smile and laugh. And that even though so many of those times were brought by you, and that I thank you so much for them, so many were also brought on by me. That you were brought on by me. That everything I encounter has been at least partly because of my own actions, and my own self. That if I believe what everyone keeps telling me, I’m beautiful too.

I’m doing my best to believe that. All of it, because I’m not there yet. And even though I still have my hopes and dreams about us,

I’m doing my best to just breathe in each breath.

I can promise that much.