Your madness matches
mine, let’s go for a stroll
I breathe in your sadness
and I breathe out love.
Psychologists say, impulsivity is
impulses from the sick self,
spontaneity is impulses from the
You look at me with confusion,
I return your look with calamity,
What is this I feel?
What is this tension that fills your heart
that you try so hide to ignore?
Why does your fast speech
complement your speeding heart?
Why aren’t you concerned?
That gust of wind that just
passed us is years’ worth
of relief you’ve never given
yourself, so I decided I would
give it to you. In that moment
your shoulders looked light.
Am I mistaken?
You don’t remember how you felt.
You don’t want to feel at ease,
you don’t think you deserve it.
You aren’t a death sentence.