a letter to my future self (because i am cliche)

to be opened when neccessary

baby are your edges chipped / do your cheeks flush with shame / do you bare the weight of things you cannot tolerate / do you make the same mistakes until you’re bloody and bruised / do you know things i never do / why won’t you tell me the truth / why don’t you look me in the eye / and promise me things i won’t know ’til it’s too late / ’til the city floods and the bridges break / baby, are things gonna be okay? someday, are we gonna be old / and soft / and gentle / with people we love / and a place to call home / nice things on the mantle / and plants in the garden / someday, will we stop counting out dollars like our life depends on it / stop begging for approval / and lapping up the smallest tidbits / will you rock me to sleep / will you forgive me, for all the things i don’t know / for all the missteps and errors / and half-asleep typos / why don’t you hold my hand / why don’t you carry the pain away / why don’t you pass the dagger over / so we can share the weight / baby are you as tired as i am / do your hips buckle with each step / and your shoulders ache / does the night feel like a mercy / do your bedsheets feel soft, like home / do you ever get lonely / when you look at the stars / and think that in a world this vast, so few people know your name / do you scream it out into the dark / again / again / again

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