maybe i’ll never be able to pin down why this feels so different from all the others but there isn’t such a sense of doom as there was with the rest. perhaps it’s me - my heart is no longer the dilapidated instrument i used to consider a metronome - back then it possessed no concrete purpose except to keep time to imaginary songs that reminded me i exist. having abandoned my expectations to be completed, i know now that that which feels forever is in fact perpetually transitory, and though this has always been among my most profound of fears, leaving its teeth marks in every place of every part i’ve ever been touched - it is also one of the most exquisite - a placeholder among other things one may deem irrational, like the fear of success or love or happiness. in a world where fingerprints can leave scars and kisses can leave question marks, you don’t see me as a collection of calamities that you are burdened to undo. i am not born from your rib, i do not bleed to watch you burn. you do know this, you do. i do not know what it is about you but there is something inside your heart that mirrors my own and you can deem a myth a prayer or a truth because some people find each other and know right away that they belong together. and even if you tire of my muchness (as you surely will), i will not dim myself down - i will not be ashamed of the wingspan of my love. but the thing is, i know yours is just as wide and perhaps that’s what it comes down to, really. for the first time in my life i feel like i am made of more than just wax.