life’s lover.

I keep making love to the liminal space 

He holds space for my purging and re-emerging 

I cuddle with my cocoon 

I’ve finally let life give me that orgasm…

This is good 

But I am also sad and unsettled 

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something’s out of place 

Tracing my fingers along the frame of my body 

Praying my mental state doesn’t ruin the picture 

I wish I had a caption captivating enough 

I smile big for the version of me that once hated her gap 

With growth comes new things to hyper-fixate on

I paid my rent today 

I wish I was proud 

I wish my bank account didn’t give me anxiety 

I finally feel “grown” 

My body no longer feels like an inconvenience 

My lover makes me feel sexy 

My ideas are afraid that I’ll mishandle them 

I build momentum and then my engine turns off 

The orgasm life tries to give me gets interrupted 

I am no longer wet 

And tears can’t serve as lubricant 

If I cry does that make me pussy?

Burnout is the biggest inhibitor to my pleasure 

Don’t be mistaken by the moaning 

It’s masking the groaning and complaining 

I am not enjoying myself

Every now and again I find my playground

And I swing like I’ve never swung before 

Because I know freedom can be fleeting   

Some days it feels like I’m pleading with life 

To let up 

Or at least give me a chance to close my legs on this rollercoaster ride 

I ask life if he’ll go slow 

But he only promises to ebb and to flow