The CatalystI lovethe way rain slides across my windowpane,how it collects in palms and puddles,and the scent that lingers after.how it chills the air with its lyrical patter;rhythmic meter, come carry me home.I lovewalking the winding sidewalks,the curves of concrete next to grass,and the way it all entwines.how every face is but a fracture of another;distant lands, heredity connects us all.But most of all,I lovethe way this city breathes,how it pulses—vibrates with life—and the pleasant aftershock in their eyes.how it reaches up to kiss the face of heaven;starry night, we walk amongst the constellations.
11:11Let me be your therapist—exhale this anxiety, and breathe me in.I am the canvas for your emotions,drawing pain from the patterns on your skin.I am the etching of crisscross harmonyon your soul, and with time I will reconcileall your nightmares; I will smoothyour cracked promises and easethe tension from your weary mind. Let me bethe clay in your hands, to work out yourfrustration—let me be molded to fitthe fracture of your backbone, the twistof your wrecked jaw, the creviceof your discontent.Use me, and I will fix you—I will make you stronger.
Sta.sh
