all I am
is the constitution
of your memories
and all I will ever be
is being shaped
day by day by day
out of your
in a constant state
knowing that if
should ever choose
to forget me,
I will disappear
into the ash
of the memories you burned
and the clay of my soul
you shape with your creativity
will melt back
into water and earth
do not let
— Tyler Knott Gregson
I want to hear someone’s life story. A stranger’s.
And then tell them mine.
I want them to know everything about me.
Those little things that I keep to
myself because I’m afraid of judgment.
Terrible, awful things that I lock
up in the back of my head.
My opinions. The truth. Everything and anything
I can think of.
And I want them not to hate me afterwards.
I’ve been reading more than I have read in a long, long time.
It’s not for the loneliness that seeps through the cracks in my skin,
or the rooftops where I sit and swallow the stars
until I can hold no more of their secrets.
I’m just trying to find myself in other people’s words.