Convince me. Say it again. Again. I want to believe. Lovable. I want to believe. Moody, and nothing more severe. Not breakable. Not fragile. Vulnerable and willful, and worth all of it. Please. Say it again.
When the floor opens. When the monsters call to me from the trees. When I dream you have left me. When I dream you are like everyone else.
This child voice. I hear this child voice. Small, and wet, and hidden, and so certain that this is worse. Because I trust you. Because I have felt my heart unwrap itself. And I have handed the mess to you, and been told it’s beautiful, and believed. I believe you. So tell me again. Please. I just want to hear it. Once more.
Will you weary of it? No, don’t tell me. I know this one. I know.
2 thoughts on “Once more. Tell me once more.”
I love this, think we all need to hear it again.
I think you’re right. But I always worry, at the time, that something is lacking in me.