the holidays continue.

love.
between fingers,
between layers,
between curled lips and heavy sighs.

paws that remind me of what kept me warm through the winter.
claws that remind me that nothing is perfect.

hospital beds and messages that make my eyes circle beneath the skin.
everything is okay, but a brother is a brother.

i love you. i love each of you. even through woken up grunts. even through inside jokes.

this hole and become whole. an ornament filled with life.

i cave in, and i am alive.
maybe i will write in lists before the year ends.

in the meantime, i will be enjoying life.

my heart has grown more than three sizes in the past few days.

it's an amazing feeling to watch the sky, the ocean, and several faces grow up and grow old around you, all at once.
once i was young, the one that was the wonder because i grew too fast.
now, i'm the one wondering how all the little ones are where they are today.

i love every single one of you. i am proud of being family. fambily.

i've gotten more than i could ever ask for this year. i am whole.
the little things, i have learned, are merely little.
they'll settle, they'll sort.
i am revived, and the rest will fall in place eventually.

eventually. time is a funny thing. funny, but i respect it.
patience is difficult, but i am willing to have a peace talk or two.

soon. so many things over this horizon. i watch the sun set, and i know the evening will bring another day.

i will be suspended in time, only to return back to a clock that leads me to you.

the new year will call for reflection. i am not there just yet.

soon.

my bones shake, but my heart is warm.

if i've learned anything, its that you can't please everyone.
if i can't please everyone, i will work on myself.

state lines, border lines, crossing lines.
i will not turn off this clock. i will not end my pulse.

breathing never felt so easy,
and the colours are revealing each day.

jumping to conclusions means you have missed the footing.

i will be there. you left too soon and too angry to let me tell you that.

you probably won't see this.
i'm sorry for that.

viewfinder intoxication.

unable to breathe.
incapable of functioning.
soon to break, constant to ache.

spinning and breathing you in
through feet and bodies of torture.

waves of hands and waves in my stomach.

i am a glutton for punishment;
stubborn with hope.

throwing the towel is not an option.

i've known this ever since.
the confirmation lies in the reality before me.
if only i could breathe past tonight.

i will, if only to continue this cycle.