I Used To Worry I Was Entirely

Closed My Eyes And Listened. It Was Like Music I'd Heard All My Life, Even More Than "this Lullaby." All Those Keystrokes, All Those Letters, So Many Words. I Brushed My Fingers Over The Beads And Watched As Her Image Rippled, Like It Was On Water, Breaking Apart Gently And Shimmering Before Becoming Whole Again.

How Ballsy It Was To Just Assume You Know, With One Glance, The Things Another Person Could Live Without. As If It Was The Same For Everyone, That Simple.

But It's Strange, When You've Always Been Told Something Is True, Like The Moon Will Come Back. You Need Proof. And While You Wait, You Feel The Entire Balance Of Your World Just Tipping. It's Crazy. But When It's Over, And It Does Come Back, That's The Best, Because It's All You Want, Everything Narrows To Just That. It's This Great Rush, Like For That One Second Everything's Okay With The World Again. It's Amazing.

So This Had Been All I Wanted, A Boy Who Understood How I Felt. Now, Though, I Sometimes Wished For More.

N The Dark Everyone Felt The Same: The Edges Blurred. When I Think Of Myself Then, What I Was Like Two Years Ago, I Feel Like A Wound In A Bad Place, Prone To Be Bumped On Corners Or Edges. Never Able To Heal.