I'm lost in little infinities,

in stars that multiply the longer I look,

I lose count of what's real and what's not,

unsure when the endless stream of numbers concludes,

Because how do we even get to .1 or .01

What stops the never-ending line of 0's before the first natural digit

Something must

Because here I am writing a poem at 10:35 and 8 seconds... 9,

But if a something can creep forward infinitely, yet never reach its destination,

how will the tenth second come,

When will we stop subdividing and finally let our toes cross the line,

We can cut in half forever,

Remain stuck in the infinites,

Get lost between one zero and another, no clue were we are in the line-up,

Or how large a fraction of infinity we are,

That I do understand

That one infinity is larger than another, 

The possibilities for factions and lines of zeros infinitely more infinite,

But how do you get past it,

That first step into infinity

Where does it start

Because I want to go into infinity,

a place where the 11th second never comes,

were our bodies grow old and weak but we still say we're teenagers,

A time were Monday never arrives and Vocab is never due,

I think I would have an easier time doing it then,

when precious seconds weren't tricking by,

and I didn't have to stop and wonder if I'm using them well,

Maybe I am in infinity,

I've been placed in a world too big for me to understand,

Where I get lost in questions metaphors struggle to explain,

I have a lot,

I could go on endlessly,

But really,

How great is my infinity?

I am writing this poem at 11 p.m. curled in my bed, trying to go to sleep. I don't have an author's purpose. I don't know what it means. But here it is, a piece of my infinity.

You know what we are?

We’re caged birds.

Birds trapped in a gilded cage.

They try to take away our freedom.

But will we let them?

What’s your answer to that?

We can’t let them.

But we already have.

So let’s reverse that.

Let’s make change.

Let’s rip apart that declaration and make our own.

Make it better.

Make it freer.

Make it ours.

A Declaration of Independence from the people saying “We’re not staying in our cages any longer. We’re taking back our freedom. We’re taking flight again.”

There is a language 
spoken only in half-glances, 
in the weight of a pause 
just before someone smiles. 

It’s in the hand 
that almost reaches out— 
then doesn’t. 

In footsteps that slow 
as they pass a familiar door. 

We live so much 
… almost. 

The almost word, 
the almost touch, 
the almost truth 
we wrap in softer sentences. 
 

We are architects 
of unsent messages, 
of thoughts folded neatly 
and placed back into drawers. 

But still– 
the moon rises without fail, 
a silver coin slipped under my pillow
by some gentle universe
that forgives
what we were too quiet to offer.

And in the hush

between midnight and morning,

the heart listens

for what it already knows—

that even the unspoken

can echo

if you’re still enough

to hear it.

Through the knotweed. Down the ladder made of tree roots. Up onto the big rock. By the river.  I stand, mud on my ankle and cuts on my knees. The sun sits just barely above the trees as the sweat sits just above my brow. I look hard through the yellow August light at the water.  The water. The water that holds fish. The water that compels me. Looking for a sign. A ripple out of place or a branch in the water. That is where the big fish are. I clutch my rod. I cast my rod. The smell of worm and sweat and mud and the sound of wind and bird and breath flood my eyes and nose until I can not smell the smell of worm and sweat and mud and I can not hear the sound of wind and bird and breath. Just water. Around me and in me and everywhere. 42.27803683154458, -73.30728374317647 

Life is

meant to be lived

Fully and completely.

You need to commit.

Fully.

You aren’t meant to dip one toe in from the edge

You’re meant to dive in 

with no hesitation

no “what ifs”.

The people who do that

are the ones who make every day

thrilling.

Who care so much

with their whole heart

about life and those who live it

that they are willing to 

risk their whole heart

to make yours a little lighter.

These are the people you can count on

to send you a hug

wrapped up in little glitters of their love 

any time you need it.

You might not even notice

when they lift the weight,

but the next time you turn inwards to confront it

it will be missing.

These are the people

who together

find a way to share their immense love for the world

with everyone.

past the burning day,

at bedtime when I shrug off sleep,

When I've got school the next morning, and I shouldn't be here,

I sit down and press play, and the noise starts, and the colors fly up around me, and cities erect and destroy themselves as the songs start and end.

I fall in.

I fall in deep.