Sometimes I just wish I could phone back in time, to when you still had that number, you know, the one I knew by heart, with all those nines and eights that are our numbers and shit. A fifteen years old you would answer and maybe would listen to me. Fifteen years old you would have been more in love with the twenty five years old me than the fifteen one. All the tattoos and hoops, and dreadlocks, and piercings in the nose and shit. Well, I would tell you you’re doing it all wrong. I would tell you there’s a time and a space for all you were doing, and to wait. Think about yourself a little bit. Think about mommy a lil’ bit. Not about lil’ 15 years old me, tho. I know she could manage. She could manage, and she became me. I used to wonder all the time, what would’ve happened, if you hadn’t done this soon what we could handle way more right now. I used to wonder, who would I ever have become, if you hadn’t done all of that? Would I still be this 25 years old me, now?And if I could call you, would saving you mean I would never have become who I’m so proud to be?
And if so, would I still call you?
Yesterday I learned that sometimes an answer comes to your mind before you even make a question, if you pay attention. Sometimes the answer, is that there is no question.
And it’s really like this. These are just questions: it is what it is, we are what we are, with all the distances in between, and it couldn’t have been in a different way.
No more questions, I just really, really hope, deep within, when you open up your eyes in the morning, you feel that little sparkle in the heart that I’ve been feeling since I’m not sad anymore.
Somehow someway I’ll always smile back at your image, all I’ve got left from you, all I wanted to have left from you. Forever smiling.
I anyway don’t remember that number. And I lost your new one intentionally. But I’ll look over you forever through your skin.
gracieabrams
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
kianamaiart
gummygunk
vaporwave
