So much can happen under the guise of
"fate".
I tie my heartstrings up like ribbons and
cut them lose one-by-one, hoping
they'll find a good home somewhere, hoping
I'll learn to not care where the pieces fall.
So much can happen under the guise of
"love".
I tell you tender things and you tell me I make the mornings lighter
but we all fall prey to our own demons sometimes,
and I'm not sure if mine ever really go away;
there used to be a fine line between
doing something because I want to
and doing something because I have to.
I used to walk that line every day, until
some of the ribbons began to break and I couldn't live with knowing
that I was breaking everyone else too.
Now when my feet start sliding from under me, I
call you and ask how you're doing, and you tell me that it's okay
now when I begin to question everything again, I try to stitch the pieces together in hopes
that it will be enough of something to hold me.
To hold us.
It's a bit tattered, but I think that it will be
enough.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC
So much can happen under the guise of
"fate".
I tie my heartstrings up like ribbons and
cut them lose one-by-one, hoping
they'll find a good home somewhere, hoping
I'll learn to not care where the pieces fall.
So much can happen under the guise of
"love".
I tell you tender things and you tell me I make the mornings lighter
but we all fall prey to our own demons sometimes,
and I'm not sure if mine ever really go away;
there used to be a fine line between
doing something because I want to
and doing something because I have to.
I used to walk that line every day, until
some of the ribbons began to break and I couldn't live with knowing
that I was breaking everyone else too.
Now when my feet start sliding from under me, I
call you and ask how you're doing, and you tell me that it's okay
now when I begin to question everything again, I try to stitch the pieces together in hopes
that it will be enough of something to hold me.
To hold us.
It's a bit tattered, but I think that it will be
enough.