I wonder how many people will find me perfect as I already am… I wonder where they are right now, what they’re doing, who they’re going through. Maybe they’re currently living a story that they’ll tell me about once we connect. I wonder how deeply my love for them will flow, I wonder how soon that I’ll know their heart is gold. I wonder how they’ll feel when they see mine is a red diamond, I wonder what unexpected reactions they could have to my multi colored tears. I wonder what sorts of unexplored ideas will grow in our shared mind. I wonder what beauty we will share in each others stares upon a universe blessing each other with flowered life beyond space.
I waited for you, until those fake flowers we played in wilted into a pale memory of the time we spent together. I waited for you, until I found myself stepping away from the girl that missed you. I waited for you, until I didn't know how to anymore. Until I found myself missing me more than you. I'll still cry about you, I think I always will - But it's not because I miss you. It's because I'll never be the person I was with you again. It's because you will always hold a piece of me hostage, and I can't ever get her out, back into me. I never belonged with you, but there I am anyway.
How things can seem like nothing at first, but become everything tomorrow - it is beautiful and terrifying. It’s hope. I ask of the moon, if you are so willing to, please bless me with a good memory of this secret - what seems small, may create the grandest of falls, into a world so beloved, you forget all aboves.. remind me that there is more than what I can predict, and that can be such a gift.
Being detached. Sometimes I have these beautiful moments, a secret between me and the stars, where I feel so disconnected from Earth. This is the version of me who is truly touching home. No heart to drown me down, no trick items to taunt me, no eyes to veil me, no dirt to suffocate me, I am a part of the celestial callings that float within me, finally fully free. Like all love story’s, it ends too soon, and to chase after it only detracts it, the more I run, the more I fall.
Constantly alone stitching up my own heart all night, only losing more blood because I never quite get it tight enough to stop it from coming undone at next day. I take this for granted because I hate this skill. I sometimes feel a confusing pang of envy for people who express their emotions, who demand aid from others in their battles.
I thought I had made it all up, until I hear how you talk to the grand kids. In relief and horror, my memories are validated. In relief and horror, I've also come to see how you were only ever who you were meant to be. In a commitment that's near religious in honor, I vow to do everything I can, to not treat them the way you treated me. To be more myself than you ever allowed any of us to be.
I do it all the time, in await of what is twined. I will push you away, a my form of begging you to stay. I will lock the doors, to inspect what of my keys you've been collecting. I will step out of the picture, to notice if you put your camera down. I will ghost our messages, anticipating your double text. I will stop showing up, to see who you turn around to. To find whoever is divine enough to let me replay my lost time until its no longer mine.