defining the human condition
self:
(n.)
i. a boy will give you his mouth and you will want to stain his skin like a sun-soaked dawn. you will want him to taste like ambition, like pluto and a dying star. but your boy is not made of endless galaxies and electric love. your boy is heavy wind and freezing rain, but you will pretend you’re a desert that would die without his kind of storm. your boy is a burning library and the worst kind of salvation, the kind that forges tragedies and is the making of martyrs. this is a lesson you never seem to learn.
ii. you want to drown in the ocean - to become the seas and touch every land mass at once. you want to blush like a sunset, in a breathtaking blend of rose and dying sunlight. you want to breathe rain-washed air and smell like petrichor: earth soaked in a storm. you want to pour light from your heart like it drips from a candle, and be the rarest kind of comfort. you want you want and you want - but do you love yours?
iii. here is what you need to hear but what no one will tell you: you are allowed to want what you deserve. this is not the wrong kind of selfishness. you deserve to love and to be loved. you deserve someone to be proud of you in all your endeavors. you deserve gentle mornings and electric nights, the ones that make the best memories. you deserve to know your worth and put yourself first. you deserve to let yourself live.
iv. so go ahead. lose yourself in the ways you carry love and words and light. turn your body from hell into the most beautiful sanctuary. fall for the way your voice dances off your tongue and the curl of your smile. fall for the way the tears stain your face and the anger sears your throat. learn to break and learn to mend: this is how to be human.
