After the winter. The confinement. We’re dying to breathe fresh air. To be outside. To see people and remember we’re not alone. There’s more than stagnation. To staring at the walls and hoping for anything to happen just because. I put my arm around her as we walk.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
Comments
Post a Comment