week nine: 16.8.22
day fifty seven
i think about you sometimes and how you would touch me, how you’d hold my body as if i were something that broke easily and wouldn’t let me slip away from your embrace or out of your sight because then you’d just might scream as if i were the toy and you were the boy and i was being taken away. your protection over me caused you to squeeze and tighten every time we became an inch or two loose.
sometimes i cringe at the remembrance of you and i but not because of anything you did but of how i rid myself of the potential threat that one day it wouldnt be you and i in the end. that we would both send off two different paths, hearts beating fast and if either one of us were to ever turn back, our bodies would collapse and we would turn to stone. but i looked to you and for once a pair of arms felt like home. spread open wide and signaled me in and always i’d abide because to me inside, you were the only one worth giving certain parts of me to.
and never had i ever imagined that one day you’d be giving them back but you did, you closed the lid to the jar of hearts i kept filling and thats the beauty of it all, because if you’re willing to believe that what goes up must always come down, then believe that something thats closed can always be reopened.
and we are a topic thats left wide opened.