am I allowed to love, dear world?

sunshine. wilderness. silence.

I only love what I cannot be attached to for tell me, where is the danger in that?

those things are ones I know will return, and so I’m not afraid to love them wholeheartedly. but you, my dear heart, I’ve been trying to tell you I’m cursed. I live under the spell of losing everything and everyone I love. and so I will not utter that word without feeling a dismantling wave of fear break my bones. that this love— this is, too, temporary.

I’m so used to goodbyes and so I let yours be one of tragedy so that I return to it with a broken heart. the broken of pieces of me can gravitate towards the story that is no longer ours and linger there awhile, dreaming of its place in heaven.

heaven— where I’m cured of the loss and the grief and the constant toil of not wanting to say another goodbye.

perhaps I was never ready to love. and so I act like it’s my saviour but know that it’s not meant to be. everything my heart touches becomes so sadly haunted by memories. I let go what is precious to have it at a time where it’s eternal. God makes us lose what we won’t protect and won’t be present with, and so I’m afraid I’m greedy and selfish with love. I want to it to soak me. embody me. heal me. I want it to do everything this worldly hand cannot without time and space.

therefore I live with an open heart, my eyes a sky’s painting. because what it longs for there is right there: a heavenly gift.

they keep telling me I’m human and to treat myself like one. but how could you when you glimpse the maps leading you to heavenly love and gazes that burn your fears alive? tell me how could my soul stop longing when it has touched the truth of this worldly love?

I live in gratitude and peace till then. silently writing poetry. artfully imagining what could be in a realm nobody considers to be their reality.

am I allowed to love, dear world? if not, then I’ll tiptoe on its path dreaming that it’s enough.