Sit down and let me tell you a story about lust, loss, and her;
Let me tell you about how loneliness was her worst enemy,
About how the world outside had always been waiting for her,
But she was not allowed to love it back.
Let me tell you about how she'd message me
and pour her poor broken heart all over me,
And tell me that she was scared,
Scared that she'll always be like this,
"Missing everyone" she says,
"Loving too easily" she says,
"Breaking every time" she says.
And I try to comfort her, to tell her the truth,
To say that when you're 15,
With a huge heart that was way too soft,
Everything hurts,
Everything scares,
Everything bruises.
I want her to be happy.
I want her to be happy and to finally accept her loneliness.
I don't want her to be like me.
I don't want her to bruise the way I did,
The way a bruise doesn't yellow,
It just keeps getting deeper,
And growing bigger,
And making you weaker.
YOU ARE READING
My loved ones; a journey.
شِعر“Perhaps one did not want to be loved, as much as to be understood” George Orwell.
