Mutable
Originally posted on mindlovemisery:
Life insists on patience but once I have arrived at a destination how can I be content to wait outside? ? My heart falters mid-air clips the rim of the wastebasket and falls to the floor with an unsettling squelch. She will leave a stain no doubt. But isn’t that what we all want to leave something behind when we are gone and haven’t the impulse to make anything new? ? I watch her sputter and turn. Everything hurts, your absence, my disenfranchised life, even the crescents at the ends of my fingertips from scraping so long at the same intractable walls. ? I am afraid of my life, afraid of my heart because even on the outside she has a knack for drawing me in. The butterflies in my stomach are made of wire. They jab and tangle. They perforate my insides whenever they spread their amature wings. ? I don’t want to die voluntarily incarcerated. I don’t want to go another moment without knowing you. The road between us…