the stars in their grace

7 candles lit up,
my face -like fire crackers.

No wishes, they rarely last.

I did like people normally do.
it echos, my past.
I look at you.
I like your face,
it reminds me of sunny days.
freckles, beard, sleep,
sweat,

it echoes,

I can`t feel my feet,
I'm in a haze,
I step outside to see the stars in their grace.
I'm right here, and I will be okey.

I go back inside,
you're fast a sleep.
but I got my air.
I'm still me.

I know this concept might be too big, too deep, too heavy, I'm scared
but still I chose to speak.
I wrote it down

why the air, why do I cry and tell you that I fear that I'm not there.

you deserve to know what you see, I owe it to the future me,

I opened up a wound,
the thing I'm carrying those times I get up, outside, and look at the stars and the moon.

But like an empty note, I'm still waiting for the words;
it's okey.
Your past isn't appalling me from you in any way.

Sorry, I fell asleep,
Are you okey ?

I hope I can see you again some day.

* A poem about how my PTSD flared up one night during a "too fast too soon" situationsship.

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Short texts on our tilting world

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Roar in the Afterglow

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