Staring at the moles on your chest, I began to create constellations.
These dots are what remain in my mind as I try to forget the color of your eyes.

To put it quite simply; it hurts.

My emotional compass is losing its gravitational pull ...

At times the direction dies still. At other times, it spins madly. 
I feel like I'm being crushed between two walls and drowned within thunder-clapping waves. Yet, on the surface of my ocean, the glass waters reflect a serene, tranquil light of the full moon hugging its night sky.   

I'm uncertain. I’m indecisive. I run away to the farthest, darkest corner of the forest. I also flee to the highest peaks and hide under sunlight. 

I'm not fearful of destruction. I'm fearful of being destructive. I tend to destruct myself by destructing the souls I cherish most. Nightmares of finding myself in abandoned emptiness haunt me. I fear being left, so I walk away. I fear being loved deeply, so I push them away. And this ... this is where I become destructive. 

I say I’m seeking peaceful stability, when truthfully...? My soul is gushing across the ends of the earth all at once. Maybe I find peace in the chaos. Maybe I just feed on chaos. 

I throw my soul into the deepest wells of love. I find myself abruptly climbing back to the surface, clawing my way up those walls. And just as I nearly reach the top, I intentionally let go of myself only to fall back in. The record breaks on replay. 

I gather myself, set the records straight then let them role into chaos once more. Once More replays itself endlessly through the space and time of my existence, and my life turns into a repetition of these "once more" chaotic events. Secret be told, I think I enjoy all of this. All so exciting and lively at that moment. Alas, dreadful at points of reality checks. Lifeless at the destination. 

So…? I gather myself and set the records straight again ...  once more ... once more, again ... and again ... 

Helpless. But wild. 
Wild. But easily tamed. 
Tamed. But cannot be owned. 

Gently handle my being. I'm too stubborn ... Even with my own self. Yet, I also feel ever so delicate and fragile. I can easily break at my own grip.

I’ll tell you how … 

It's all in the simplicities - which can also turn into complexities - found in the sun’s golden hour. Yellow rays against my skin. Illuminated dust particles dancing through my fingers. A warm whisper. That bold dive. Grab me by the extremes. 

Right now .. I think I’m coming up with a case of the blues. 
So, come … Dip me not in the rainbow, but in the *** of gold at the far end. 

Take me all the way ... The noise, it enchants me. 

Be still my heart, it’s him … Chaos.