It is daily now that I am struck by the beauty of the world surrounding me.
I have skipped classes for dread of going indoors.
I have seen bees soar above my head in a mating dance
that is intricate and violent
passionate and dangerous.
I have felt the love of the sun on my shoulders until it was seared in.
Only the sting at night to remind me of its warmth in the day.
Sometimes I care so much that it hurts
it overwhelms me
and makes me helpless.
Sometimes I want the relief and refuge of indifference.
The burdenless beauty of self-centeredness.
If only I could pretend that the world was a centrifuge spinning endlessly around me.
That I was the eye of the storm - everyone else an inconsequential raindrop.
It must never hurt to be self-centered.
To never feel the ache of empathy,
the incurable sadness of mourning for another's pain,
the hard sting of beauty
the inadequacy of words.