September: Things I Don’t Say

“Here’s how I see it:

If I don’t kiss you goodnight,

then the day never ends

it goes on and on forever.

And if I don’t say goodbye to you,

Then you won’t leave, 

and we will stay together.”

…

I sit here on the doorsteps of September,

“It’s going to be winter soon.” Isn’t it crazy? This never ending circle?

It’s almost comforting, telling me that no matter where we go, we will somehow cross paths in the starting point again. The nights are getting longer so now you have some time to write, the days are getting shorter which means less time spent pretending. Somewhere in my head, there’s an empty room, no doors, no windows, just walls facing each other, I hide inside the room. 

…

I repeat the things I say not because it’s poetic but because I want it to be known that I mean them, none of this is written by accident. You read somewhere between the lines that this is all a trick, it’s all fiction but you still worry, “we will talk about it very soon” or whatever it is you would say if you cared. 

…

I wish you’d once sit here beside me, and marvel at the wonder that is this existence, stars and dust, light and dark, hot and cold. And how we stand in the midst of it all. What a beautiful mess, and it always circles back to the start of it all.*

*This is what I want to say when I meet you, but it all fades away the second you walk in.