i used to be happy here, in the subtext, the footnotes. i used to forget the present here because the present was not all that they promised. it wasn't shiny or bright or beautiful or full. i let myself cling to the past here like crumbs at the bottom of a wet bowl. i have reveled in it, let its scent soak into my clothes and trail behind me like a sentence, i have doused my food with it, let my fork bend under its weight. and i have never been brave. and i have never been brave. and i have never been brave.
I think being able to admit to these sorts of things to yourself, through your writing, is mighty brave indeed.
ReplyDeleteHave you read "The Perks of Being a Wallflower"? This made me think of it, if you haven't read it I highly suggest it.
xo
You know, it's always such a comfort for me to read your words.
ReplyDeleteYou are brave because you are here, on this earth, still breathing.
ReplyDelete