7 of Cups

Seven used to be my lucky number,

until it was everyone's lucky number and

I couldn't get it on the back of my soccer jersey because 3 kids were fighting

over it

and I just find fighting exhausting.

I find confrontation exhausting.

Terrifying really.

To stand my ground on my needs,

To be so tantalizing in my speech

Over passions, opinions, life, philosophy.

There's a rich inner life where I've nurtured and hidden,

Some parts even from myself,

An everlasting stream of ideas and knowledge and genius. Yes, genius.

See, but I've been experiencing life through an inch of glass,

A one way mirror where I can look out and still be hurt and feel and think

marathons around the world as I take each shallow breathe.

Maybe that sounds like a grass is always greener state of mind

But the thing about mirrors is that you reflect other people's light back to them,

But what lies behind a one way mirror?

It's a box built by the stars and produced by that first oxygenated breath

during a time where the suns shines at her ideal pace.

My compassion is unquenched and the line I draw is justice.

My love swells and swells and swells to the point of suffocation.

I can't contain light,

No amount of conditioning can contain light without losing it altogether.

Is it the paradox of Leo?

A fixed sign,

The sun,

To be born into a visually restricting vessel where one can't literally

radiate into the 3rd dimension like the skin of vampires from Twilight.

Even that level of radiance is a lot and not enough at the same time.

You have to give your all and bury your head in the sand at the feet of people

you draw in.

It's easy to feel alone when there's dirt muffling your speech

And the way you are to be digestible to others feel like chains to your

potential.

Why do I crave to be eaten?

We don't eat the sun.

For one, she's too far,

And not everyone is equipped to handle the heat.

Instead there's a prayer of gratitude

When she peaks out in the winter months to warm our skin.

A moment of relief from the bone chilling shadows.

An intimate moment with her warmth to remind you there's more than teeth

chattering pain and people and thoughts.

You can contemplate and theorize the sun's fire

but one can never truly grasp her love entirely.

Only through small, personal moments

where her light quenched your skin with much needed warmth.

When she acquaints you

with the penumbra and umbra of your suffering

to reveal a being in need of your warmth.

And they are you.