it is like;

a spiderweb covered in dewdrops.

you are buried to your mouth in sunshine.

it is suffocating. it is wonderful.

in fact, you are so wrapped up in sunshine, that when it leaves

you are scared.

this isnt right, you say to yourself,

your voice is tired

the stained glass window leaves patterns on your skin,

or it would if you had any, had any like he did,

had soft but rough, calloused but gentle and forgiving forgiving would that soft touch skin forgive you?

yes, you mustve done something wrong, there is no longer sunshine in the room somehow

somehow feeling cold stone floor on your feet

there is no warm sunshine there is only dark and smoke creeping up your arms

hes come all the way though, come here to you

no no you were right this is good its good now,

were together again, that fixes it, we always fix it together

you hurt me you hurt me you hurt me you hurt me you hurt me but

for some reason, for some reason he twists his fingers into the web

and the dewdrops fall and the thread spins around his fingers and dissolves into nothing

his arms fall too fall through your chest through the stained glass through your heart

are you here? are you here? are you here?

the stained glass, it doesnt hurt, is it even there youre not sure you dont care

all you can feel are his arms his arms clinging to the misty clouds of your being your stomach your chest

cling to your heart your heart your heart

your heart your heart is tainted is broken you assumed so

is it possible for someone so vibrant glowing aura to love a broken one,

a heart like glass opal with milky black oil spreading throughout it from the center the core

its okay now its okay now we are broken but its just a crack.

you know that, right?

its like that old picture frame of mine its in my room, its in one of the boxes in the attic

laying on the hammock the afternoon sun is gleaming on my skin its warm

and i swear i swear that your body creates colors like a prism on the floor and the walls

when the sunlight shines through you

but the███████████, that ██████████████████████

the glass broke, ye████████ ame ██████████████████ ough

the ████████████████████████████safe. the heart is safe.

██████████████████ ███████████

the fr███████ill works, ██████████████████ is still beautiful and ancient and precious

nothing changes- thats a lie, but broken things do not mean bad things

here, take my hand, take my hand, ill hold it and we

will make it together.

the █████████████w███████████████████

is basking ███████████████████

⠀