Day 823:

i find myself wearing worry on my skin like a promise
like relationships are tied by the number of tears iʻve manage to force in the miles between our bodies
im running out of ways to say this
out of weight to old us together
when the ends fray
i find my insides stuttering trying to escape
i am terrified of the ways i will hold on
how i have a tendency of doing this for too long
never learned how to stop
how to quit
only ever remmeber being quit on
and trying to work my way back in
you are the first girl in 3 years that i havent thought of as the "other woman" or replacement
or rebound
or doomed
or taking space
or taking time
or healing me
or anything other than perfect
and future
and its scary to think
i could be on a three year cycle of broken hearts and weak glue
im wondering where nights like these fit
in the grand scheme of things
if tis is called doubt
or something else

maybe
maybe its just a realization ofthe miles
maybe its the alcohol
maybe its the stench of fear creeping its way into our haven
a place we called safe before we even created
i wonder how it ends
i try not to think too far past tomorrow
i get to excited
and excited scares me
because iʻve been there before with someone else
and excited doesnt hold the edges together
wont melt us into a mold we can hold
wont do anything but make things worse
if we cant find another way
to keep us steady