Interrupted//Thoughts || Eighteen/Nineteen

You misinterpret everything, even the silence. Apply meaning to the gaps between words, filling the spaces with a negative cement.

xxx

On odd times during the day, I catch myself wondering - how are you? Are you caught in your own odd moment? Have you realized yet? How has the lack of access affected your life?

xxx

The movement of breath pushes through me, gliding from my toes, out of my gently parted lips, and I feel myself grow. Like a lotus, I grow stronger and wilder, grow out of the pain and suffering, into a bright and beautiful flower. Someone will find this flower beautiful, I think, and I grow taller. Someone will tenderly care for this flower, I think, and I bloom. Someone will grow right next to this flower, I think, and I spread my petals towards the sun and the sky.

xxx

I used to think that hearts were wretched things. There was no stretch to them, no patience when it came to love. It would love from afar, barely touching, beating separately but simultaneously. But my own heart stretched and made space for another. It bled, suffered great heartbreak, and sealed itself up again. And it stretched, every time I asked, it stretched and made room for more love. Everytime I felt I had reached my capacity, it stretched further, became bigger, and more expansive.

I still think that hearts are wretched things. It’s just that some are out of practice, unable to stretch and be patient. It’s just that some need a little more help, a little more pull in the right direction. It’s just that some need a little more love.