i'm a frightened child, swinging her fists anywhere they can land, writing effigies across her thighs with an inkless pen, talking letters into the air, addressed to a mother that doesn't exist. i am a child, and i want you to hold my wrists steady, kiss my forehead, rock me on your lap and murmur into the space after my face and before the wall. i want you to wrap me in a quilt, place another steaming plate in my hands, and listen to act one two three four five six outro final scene ending. sob into your shoulder and unclench my hands, i want to write you letters.
title from the song i am currently listening to; fireworks by the whitest boy alive.