i was far too old
to ask my mother for an embrace,
to be cradled in her arms,
as she moves a strand of hair from my face.

i was far too young
to know how to love someone older,
the thought of commitment scares me,
i cannot fathom the promise of forever.

Self wanted loneliness is peaceful and a bliss,
But, loneliness gifted to you hurts deeply.
12/10/2019

perhaps, i was just like the little prince,
romanticizing a person i never even knew.

"spend all the sunsets with me," i convince.
"spend it with me before we're due."

the truth of the matter is,
in the little planet where she resides,
i cannot simply convince somebody,
to make room for me inside.

though, perhaps,
i was also too young to know how to love her.

her mother embraces her,
even if out of ten,
she could only score nine.
my eyes begin to burn,
for desiring what's not mine.

my hair has always been unruly.

i was no stranger to things that are hard to maintain.

so, when you ran your fingers through my head, i become very aware of you.

the twitch of your lips, the way your breath slowed.

is the coarse texture off putting? does it bother you that it's blooming from my scalp?

as your fingers come past my shoulders and to the end of their journey, you stare at your hand, realizing you had tugged a few stray strands that coiled in different patterns.

i held my breath, waiting for the familiar look of disgust on your face.

“your natural hair is lovely.”

my world stilled.

you had my heart in your hand, but did not choose to crush it.

in fact, you even planted warmth as you watered the roots of my rapidly beating *****.

i was no stranger to things that are hard to maintain.

but, oh, how i wish you wouldn't be.