day 332

Tuesday

It doesn't matter what the situation is, or who the people are, what kind of friends they have, or even how in love the both may be or have been. It doesn't matter. I will rest my head on his chest tonight and feel on top of the world. Hands loose and bodies nimble. Just the way it feels to let the tides wash you a few feet away from the shore. When your feet are hovering and you forget what grounded feels like. Her friends will tell her it doesn't matter. I don't matter. I am just the summer he missed out on and the stinging song of a regret. She will feed off of them. Have them call me small or simple, or boring, or ugly. Maybe I will listen and feel small. And simple. Boring. He will still call me beautiful. In our summer mornings and we will both wonder what happens next. Why her heart is still tied to a noose and why she has taken up the role of ghost. Of poltergeist. I want you to leave. Whole heartedly. And to take the broken wings with you. Drag them if you have to. Through dirt and mud and a whole lot of rain water. Tread the sea like you don't have a purpose. I don't know you. I don't want to. I know it doesn't matter. My friends will say the same things about you to make me feel bigger. But my skin is in his palms and I don't plan on shrinking anytime soon.