I gather moments as if
droplets of blood,
each collecting and pausing
in my heart until
my chest feels so full
it might burst.
I smile when this happens,
knowing the immense joy
I feel will soon dissipate,
but already I’ve relived
a moment of bliss.
These memories,
pooling under the surface,
are as easily sketched
across a blank page
as they are written
across my face.
I can’t help but remember
those times where giddy
ruled over any other emotion —
where pain seemed impossible
and care was our only inevitability.
My friend, once upon a time,
taped “pain is inevitable;
empathy is required”
on her computer.
I think about it, day
after day.
Life is pain,
and yes, many other things,
but I come back
to the pain most often.
Anyways,
how could one love
without knowing its opposite?
The moments currently
swelling up
relate to you, of course,
and are as clear as the moon
on a cloudless night.
Yet, there’s something
more beautiful about the moon
when half-hidden amongst clouds
that makes me miss
the mystery
of it all.
So It Goes 