It’s easier to wash your helplessness and displacement away by drowning in tears because of your past or your title, isn’t it?
It’s easier to keep your darkest secrets locked securely away so no one can ever see them, much less catch a glimpse of them in the mirror, isn’t it?
It’s easier to bury all the things that have been stolen from the deepest parts of you, isn’t it?
But you’ve been on my mind, and my heart. Over the years, you’ve snuggled so securely inside my thought life that I can’t help but think of you every night and every day. I wake up thinking of you, wondering if your pain is as deep as mine was, or perhaps, just perhaps, also like me, you’ve come to treasure the wild extravagance of your still beating heart.