how easily, naturally
as kids we spilled our
hearts out to each other
i was with you then
in my closet, to get
away from our parents.
flashlight in front, hearts
in our hands.
i told you everything,
before forming the
questions i had for you.
i gave you everything,
hoping it wasn’t too much.
we spent nights situated
on top of those words,
wondering how it impacted.
how each other felt after.
as an adult, i feel
overwhelmed, out of
reach. childlike wonders
cease me as my vices
replace me.
where’s my childlike
wonder? buried in my
hands, where i crushed
my heart? or in my chest
where you placed yours?
so i searched. and as
naturally, easily as i
remembered, i spilt my
heart out on pen, and slid
it to you with a heart
embroidered on the side.
hoping it wasn’t too much.
my vices have no place over me anymore, so i can replace it with something better. i swore myself to protect my childlike wonder so i wouldn't cease into the vices my family had anyways.
i haven't felt this way in a while,
so i'll do the best i can.