Nothing really pains more than this little thing that I hold in my hand. Its a bit of light blue, green and yellow. Some letters that entange that would make little sense to anyone but a few.
Ive kept it hidden, lost
but it always finds its way back to me in the lonely hours.
What it feels like to be worried about, or care, or to be loved.
What it feels like when what you do matters.
When you had the choice to make or break.
Now its just a reminder of how little it was, how fast it fades, how small it mattered. Everything.
3 years ago • 0 notes