if you wanted the sky, clouds, overwhelming blue, i would harness it and give it to you. if you wanted the sun, self-perpetuating, vast ball of flame, i would gather it and give it to you. if you wanted my heart, the thing that keeps me alive, ****** fist, i would rip it out of my chest and give it to you wrapped up with a bow.
all of these things i would give, without resignation about how life would be for others without a sky, without a sun to keep them warm... or how i would function without my heart.
[with my heart in your greedy hands.]
you would take all of this from me, without shame, without guilt, selfishly and ignorantly, believing that i’ve given all of this to you because you are somehow entitled to it.
but i won’t blame you for accepting my gifts. after all, i am the one who now gives them to you.
i am the one who rips the sun out of the sky, who then takes that sky scoops it into a bucket and delivers it to you without a second thought.
i am the reason why my chest is completely open, why i am bleeding out now. i am the one who granted you my heart.