[...feeling your familiarity]

14.06.2016

I really want to hold you,  

Hold you steady for a while,

Prove to you that you are worth it.

 

It is foolish to think I know you.

I have met many people,

But you feel familiar –

Something about the way you breathe,

How you try to withdraw yourself from situations.

Like the way I try to inject my absent words.

 

Inhaling before speaking,

All that breath in a pair of lungs is a reminder that you are present,

Here to be heard.

And it comforts me to know that you need to be reminded of that too.

 

It’s funny how occupying space somehow feels like a betrayal,

How it feels like an inadequacy, belying a certain type of existence,

So we survive in limbo, 

Feeling like that it’s better than being somewhere.

 

Yet it still is foolish to think I know you.

I have met many people,

But you feel familiar –

Something about the way you search,

Looking to your peripheries first, trying to locate an answer, a meaning or a lifeline.

You check to see if you are alone.

 

Explanations and rationales have gotten you this far,

This far away from what frightens you, and me, and everyone else,

But your thoughts and words get congested in your ribcage,

And the only thing that is left to cling to is a vague idea of home,

 

I become displaced by similes and metaphors,

When I try to find a place to be without a shadow,

Such places feel foreign, there are no tears, but also no joy.