being love

i wanted to write a poem about this history of love in my life
and i wanted the ending to be happy
you know... as if i'm at the end

which made me realize that the poem i needed to write
was much different than the poem i wanted to write

i need to write a poem about endings
which means i need to write a poem about beginnings
which means i need to write a poem about moments

but i don't know how to write a moment
because i barely know how to live one

because i'm wrapped up in the idea of i
and i'm stuck on the story of me
and i'm lost in the ego of alone

have you felt this way?

by which i mean, do you feel?
by which i mean, does your heart beat faster at the conduction of your thoughts
and do your thoughts lead you down paths to places
other than the present?

this poem is not a happy ending
because poems are not endings
they're not even beginnings
at worst, they're a saying
at best, they're a being

and i'm just trying to be true
trying to expose myself to you
trying to shed back the layers of story
and bring forth the moment in it's glory
but moments don't always feel glorious when we're caught up in feeling

do you remember how it felt to be broken?
do you remember how it felt to be born?
do you remember how it felt to be free?

are you longing for a feeling?

do you breathe?
do you bask in the sun?
do you sit with the wind?

i want to believe that my story has only happy endings
but what if i let my story fall away?

what if the wind and i are one?
what if my skin touches the sun just as much
as the sun touches my skin?
what if breathing is something that happens to me,
not something that i do?
what if i stopped trying to be true?

would a moment grace the page?
would words leave these lips?
would people hold each other?
would we forget?
by which i mean...would we awaken?
by which i mean...would we love?