Manage me,
I'm a
mess,
Swept under the rug of yesterday's home improvement,
a whimsical urge tossed aside for the easy reassurance of home and comfort.
I am the photograph tucked away as a bookmark,
in a book left half unread,
Once reopened to find memories crawling back into peripheral sight,
faded, creased, and lonely.
I long to be admired, long to be held, torn, and-
laughed at, laughed with-
Like a distant relative or an old friend breathing in their last breath.I missed the moment when time collapsed and memory was erased, replaced with finicky social experiments, lost in the blur of intoxication, sucked through multi-colored bendy-straws, making way for a spinning world where hub-caps stood still, but our vision didn't.
If I could leave you with only one thing, it would be small, foldable, and made from trees, with a few careless words, scribbled in blue;
take a minutes to learn me, take a moment to love me, because I need you love to live, and without it, I am nothing.
Format:SecretlyBrokenAndSilentlyHoping
PrimarilyParamore*