The lack of space left in my book has been filled. I’ve even written in the corners of the pages in my mind. I’ve scribbled out, and filled in. I’ve been out of ink for so long, but now I’ve been refilled with the words to settle and what red ink is left to correct this problem of mine….or yours. Sweaty hands, wiped on cheeks drizzling with tears of ice. Afraid of the smell of her hair because it pulled me in so many times before. She held me so tightly, even when my heart seemed to be a million miles away.
“And though I make you cry, I know sometimes you want to die, but do you really feel alive without me?”
I’m going to change. I just don’t know how long it will take.
Interested in changing the world.