likened to growth being stumped by bound feet, i’m asphyxiating under your tight embrace, the fine tapestry of protectiveness and warmth clinging to my ankles. it’s beginning to seep through the pores of my mind, through the tips of my fingers, through the labyrinth of purple and green in the converse directions. it’s wrapping this cacophony of bones and uncertainty with zest, too much zest – and i recall wondering if i’d get through this calmly.
but it’s been like this every other day for sixteen years, and perhaps i’m through watching ashes fall through the hairline cracks of my soul, through shivering at the chiffon frills against pale skin – thoroughly laden, as a result of watching everything that could’ve been, should’ve been, and would’ve been slip past as mere monochrome daydreams.
once again i’ve fallen into unnerving white silence. your footsteps nonchalant. i’m never brave enough.