They never carried you far before; what makes you think they will now? Taking and giving never seemed this hard; yet every time you reach out to grab, your fingers don’t function how you wish they would. Instead of gently picking the love from the palm of his hand, you smack it down- spilled on the ground, empty and wasted.
What has this become, this mentality? You can’t seem to let it go, and you won’t even try, you stubborn soul. You feign kindness and love, but least love yourself. You say that isn’t the case, but we know the truth. We know.
You are so unwilling, and I am tired of trying to make you care. Stay still, breathless; I don’t care. Go far from this place and never return; I don’t care. Tear down these bridges of beautiful memories; I don’t care. But finally be what you claimed you would become, because I do care.
“I’ve faced the same and walked out alive,” you heard her whisper underneath propped-up sheets, a flimsy tent that sags in the middle, a slight representation of your soul, seemingly strong but able to be blown into nothingness if a strong-enough wind presents itself.
Take it for what it isn’t.
Leave it for what it is.
Break the broken until nothing remains.
Grieve for what you cannot love anymore.
Finally be what you claimed you would become, because I do care.
