The words to me are bread and bone, they feed me more than you…
You think your head can’t stay above water and no one cares if your feelings drown.
I almost think I hear your voice whispering good mornings and goodbyes but you’re never really there.
When will you finally grow tired of the birds that come and go as they please?
If you could run back to the past and find yourself, what are some things you’d like you to know?
But some girls –
some girls wake up when
they’d rather not wake up at all.
…please don’t get too used to it,
don’t make it your survival.
She was confusion in abundance
and it almost always weighed her down,
when you’re heavy and you’re slow,
you forget to look around.
Is it selfish to say
that I’d rather not watch you grow
if it means outgrowing me?
I like words and how they communicate feeling but there are some feelings you can only communicate by touch; like the feeling I get from playing with your hair when your hands are too busy to humour me – or how your body always curves so perfectly into mine as if we were once two halves of the same whole. But I have no words to describe the ones you take from my mouth when you tell me we’ve been living in a haze; even with all the pretty words that I’ve learned to string together, I still have no words for this feeling.