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Okay, so this next one's called Please Don't Forget.
Um, yeah, I'm just gonna go for it.
Words roll off your tongue, through your fingertips, and onto a computer screen before
I can drag them into a dark alley and beat the
crap out of them. I can’t seem to touch the thoughts that
have a grip on your mind. I want to steal them from
you and bury them in the middle of a forest on the
other side of the universe. It’s been so long since you’ve
cracked a smile or whispered “I love you” under your
breath in front of a mirror. Too many times your string of “I need you”s
were answered with “I need space” and you’re convinced that
you are not worth the weight of your statements.
Your eyes rush to every stretch mark and scar as your mind rips itself inside out without
realizing that all the flaws you see prove that you have
survived wars with demons. You beat them before anyone even caught a
glimpse of your battle. No wonder they don’t understand the wounds that appeared
on your skin and in the depths of your brain, they
didn’t even realize you were fighting.
You have yet to realize that without every bruise, crease, and imprint, you would not
be alive. If you were really as light and easy
to carry as your kindergarten book bag, you’d be a ghost and hauntings give me
chills that no blanket or jacket can cure. I want you.
I want you as a person, as a human.
I want to be able to touch and feel and listen to the
crack in your voice and teach you about everything you ignore about
yourself until you figure out that there is more to
love.
