february 23rd, 2020

you smile. as your fingers melt away into the snow. and as the paper flowers you gave me start to crumple, and wilt. as time continues to fucking flow.

and i’ll make it perfect. because i swear to god, i’m sorry for every crumple, every crack in my soul. 

and i’m sorry i wasn’t the supergirl you wanted me to be. i’m sorry i couldn’t fly, couldn’t lift up the stone columns as they fell under the weight of the sky.

i know. i know. i failed you, all right? you don’t need to say it again, until the words are etched into my bones.

but it’s a lot, okay. expecting the world from yourself every single day. staying up so late that in the morning, your eyelids sorta turn to stone.

chiseling away the last remains of baby fat from your cheeks with a kitchen knife and letting

it

go.


It’s been… a really hard week. I don’t actually remember when I wrote this, it’s been in my queue since dinosaurs roamed the earth probably, but… oof. This pretty much perfectly describes how I’m feeling right now.

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