This is what I know about being gigantic.
I.
The thing about room is that there is never really enough of it.
The thing about love is that it really isn't heavy. You don't have to let it go.
There are so many ways to keep living. There are so many ways to be free.
II.
Ask me where I'm going, and I will say somewhere between innocence and sin.
Then I will laugh and tell you I'm kidding.
Then I will touch your face and change the subject.
This is how I lose my train of thought.
A wise man once said to me, "All of your poems are essentially about the same thing,"
and I said, "I know."
III.
Who is responsible for filling the silence?
I thought it was me, but everyone else thinks it's them.
We are all making room for our noise.
IV.
We were wet from the storms and moved by the thunder.
It was all around us and inside of us, and it was telling us not to worry.
Everything was fine. It was all okay.
V.
I have you stored in my mind as moments.
Sometimes, I see you smiling in the wingspan of a bird.
I have all the beauty I need.
VI.
Dreams are full of obscure symbols disguised as metaphors.
Is that rib cage the solution to my biggest problem,
or is my biggest fantasy disguised as a rib cage?
VII.
I want to find a field of people holding hands and hold their hands too.
I want to hold your hand in a field of people holding hands.
VIII.
Weird, how everything changes, massively and irrevocably,
like the sudden extinction of an undiscovered animal.
IX.
There are many things that I can't stop myself from seeing:
flowers in bloom, people's moods telegraphed in dots and dashes across their faces,
dishes collecting in the sink, books, homeless people.
And the crows. I always notice the crows.
The present tense is so mesmerizing.
How can I trick yourself into moving forward?
X.
Guy corners me on the light rail,
and asks me if I'm a good witch or a bad witch.
Then he asks me what I write about.
"This, actually. I write about this."
theartofmadeline
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