(no subject)
I want this to be a summer of love.
Not the summer of like, not 2012.
But something entirely new.
Finding love. In everything.
In the corners of my house.
Covered in dust bunnies and grains of brown rice.
In the edges of my neighborhood's map.
That are crinkled from where they meet the water.
In the eyes of my husband.
Creasing together when he laughs.
In myself.
Though it's sometimes the hardest sell of them all.
To love myself, I can't make myself sick.
I can't worry myself till my chest hurts, my head throbs, my body shakes.
I can't look up every foreign ailment. Pointing emphatically to nothing at all.
I can't let my mind destroy my chances at being happy.
I want to read more.
Write more. Dance more. Laugh more.
Stretch my mind and my body.
And who's to say if this is me chasing the taste of a memory,
Or a lasting impression.
All I know is that I love the mayhem more than the love.
So let's chose love this summer.