My silver lining

Sometimes

I wish

the canvas of my life

isn’t filled with

paintings

of

a fish gasping for air at the surface of an obliterated aquarium.

an eroding riverbank, plastered with riprap to contain the floods of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

stained mascara, scraps of a scrapbook, abandoned toys and a shovel.

and the story of my life

isn’t written with

anecdotes

of

a weak pulse that stays with me throughout every moment of the day, reminding me that there’s something that my heart still aches for.

a moment of gripping pain that engulfs me in that few minutes between my sobriety and drunkenness.

comedic tragedy, archived memories, the innocence of yesterday and a mental coffin.

-

But

if not for these,

I wouldn’t have known

that there’s a place in this world for the misfits and a broken soul.

that even the raging seas can be calmed by a gentle whisper in my ear.

that I can be loved for my delirium, my history, my darkness and my emptiness.

that every cloud has a silver lining, and

that you’re mine.