let it all go and hold you instead.
i wish i could.
enveloped in these hopes that haven’t reached fruition yet.
i’m not sure if i worded that correctly, but formalities and grammatical correctness and order and systematic, scientific approaches lose their power when full hearts just want expression.
fruit. that’s the point i was making.
hanging in the balance, and from branches made of my worries and wishes.
is that what i said at the very beginning?
yes.
moving on.
bitter nectar from sweet, round, soft skinned ornaments dangling from trees that i didn’t have the foresight or fortitude to plant myself when i had the chance.
but, you allow me to eat from them still.
i don’t get you.
not at all.
nor do I really want to.
how could you disregard all that i’ve done and didn’t do?
it doesn’t seem fair for you to love me unconditionally when conditions are all that i seem to have any control over lately—even that’s an illusion i’m sure.
i have no idea why i find myself attempting to jog the forgetful sea’s memory every chance i get.
it’s so difficult to run through water, but I still try.
i’m sorry.
can i come back to you again tomorrow?
smh.
of course you’d say ‘yes’.
thank you.
💕
