I’m not sure how you got here. Next to me.
I’m not someone you should want to be this close to.
Close enough to touch my hair and to know I’m intensely afraid of what happens next. What happens next?
What if I’m … underwhelming. What if I’m just as average and ordinary as everyone you've forgotten? All the ones you let slip.
Lost. Neglected.
What if the spark you think you see in me is merely an illusion? A mirage I can’t manifest.
What if once the glow wears off, it's something forgettable.
You shouldn’t be this close.
This close, you’re in perfect view of all the things I’ve struggled to accept. That I’ve just found beauty in.
It will take you longer to embrace those parts of me.
The incomplete parts that wrap up my spine and drive down my back. I can't reach them, but I can feel them. And, at this range, you can see them.
Take a step back and make sure you can see all of it. It’s safer to keep a few steps– away. A full vivid perspective. See all the hues.
Maybe you’ll still find yourself next to me.
But, what happens next?
Photo @mamamaysa
