Will you tell me a story about a sheep herder?

I’ve been thinking about writing about the thought that I’ve been staring at the moon lately

Truth is, I’ve forgotten what the sky looks like

I’ve been looking at ceiling tiles pieced together in a factory

Do little men make them for little mice to pick apart?

I’ve been staring at the paint on walls wondering how it is smooth with that texture

I’ve been watching Star Trek episodes getting to know Kirk and Spock and Doc as if they were my family

I’ve been worried about sounding pathetic to her because my life is less colorful

I’ve been trying to remind myself that I love me even when my anxiety takes away my words

Am I still me, loved, lovable, and love when I can only release a few sentences into the strangers that are kind enough to acknowledge me?

I’ve been seeing more love in people lately.

I’ve been thinking wow that person must really love themselves

And I admire them for it.

I’ve been trying to figure out what it is I am feeling in regards to us

I’ve never been so in love with someone and felt so very far away from them

It’s two conflicting feelings, but the memories keep coming in

And I’m glad we made them.

I’ve been telling myself to sit at my desk more

But I don’t like that boring old thing

I judge my writing by the amount of time I sit at that desk

Which is almost never

So I judge myself and say I’m shit, I’m lazy, unproductive, and going no where

When I am writing literally everywhere else

God doesn’t live in the desk, I tell my soul

God lives in these fingers

In this mind that tells them which keys to type

God lives in the skin

Within the electricity that flows through it when you are warm with her

God lives in your silver tongue

The same one that gets tied when talking to strangers

I suppose they’re not strangers

Just other lovers

I suppose the whole world is filled with other lovers

And each place you travel you are knowing more of them

I want to say you are putting the pieces of your heart together

With each lover that you meet

But you’re already whole

You’re already complete

You’re just so damn afraid of being alone

The thing is though

I think you would like you

I think you would fall in love with you if you gave yourself a chance

I think you would find you lovable

Because you are love

And when you can see that

You’ll know that you have always been

Loved.

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