#filterlysspoetry: "the tragic beauty of living."

i can’t help but think to myself,

is this what it is

to be deeply alive—

to live and take in life

in a way that’s simultaneously

fierce and delicate?

to miss people

you never really knew?

to crave connections

with people and bright green places

that set your soul on fire?

to find yourself

face to face with 3am

wondering what all this even is?

to get hit

from time to time

with a sharp longing?

this sense of nostalgia

that you can’t explain?

i sometimes feel nostalgic

for drunken nights

and past versions of myself

and perfect strangers i kissed

and connected with

and never saw again.

it’s easy to get hung up

on the seemingly perfect strangers

and wonder where they are now.

but i don’t think it’s them

i really long for.

i think i long for myself

far more than

those perfect strangers

who were only perfect to me

in the moments they were meant to be.

i long for who i was

in certain carefree moments;

the fact that there were

so many heavy things

i wasn’t forced to face,

if only temporarily.

it’s not regret or disappointment i feel,

but acute awareness.

heartbreaking awareness.

the awareness

that there are versions of me

that can only live in the past.

that this exact moment,

and all the ones that follow,

will come to live in the past.

that you can miss

parts and moments of something

without wanting it back.

things, places, people.

that you can have

exactly what you want,

but know there’s a low

for every high.

that my love for this life

is the most tragically beautiful mix

of fierce and delicate.

i’m in it,

and i already miss it.

because i’m aware.

that all of this is only temporary.

things, places, people.