9.6.20
So many times, I've bit my tongue;
on things I should have said.
So many times, I have held back; knowing you could not hold my tongues weight.
You say that I am a whole world, but you do not care to understand how it was created from dust and ashes.
You say that I am mesmerizing, but you don't pay attention to what I am saying.
You say that you like when I read to you, before you stop replying at night; but, you haven't opened the book yet.
You say that I hold depth, yet you are someone who is afraid to go past the shallow end of a pool. You cannot float until you swim in deeper waters.
You are not meant to stay grounded, while you watch everything around you soar.
Do not restrict your desire to float.
How do you know the clouds exist, if you've never looked up?
You are someone who doesn't let go of the balloon, because you don't want it to leave you alone in the grass.
You didn't want me to float away. So you tied me to your wrist. I tried to pull you up with me, but it only grounded me to your level.
My tongue bleeds from biting it still. I swallowed the blood, and the salty tears creased in my lips.
I should have let you carry the weight of my tongue for a little while. Holding on to me, was hurting me, more than what it assured you I wouldn't drift to better things.
What use is the ground, if it is not a starting point?
I cannot uproot someone who refuses to grow. What use is a root that will not break ground?
I cannot be free until I tell you to untie me.
I should have told you to let me go sooner.
