I’m the best at giving

up.

Or that’s what I would’ve said,

If my mind was in that state.

But it’s not right now. It’s not been in a while.

Just the idea of giving up Deeply rooted and engraved. That is all. All I have.

To give away. Not up. I donate.

Don’t stop. There is this crater in my head. An impact long before I remember. Well.

I’m not good at remembering.

But it’s there. Vast, dead space. Lost ground, compressed,

Waiting to be replaced.

This is my mind. This is why all that describes me could be one word:

kind.

To think of the craters beyond.

On planets my sun can shine on.

When there is light, there could be - Might need water - but a life form!

Filling and blooming and bursting

In a circle that remained after a crash.

The life that is grasping and thirsting

For all the fragments of hope that are left.

So what I wanted to leave you with: Don’t give up. Raise your chin

And leave your eyes to the sky As the matte glossy screens that they are.

Observe the meteorite showers passing by.

See the planets that embrace and collide.

What can they do?

When the universe hurls comets, I’d still rather be crashing with you.