sjsprWriting

Pass me notes underneath the slits of my door

so I can read them before I slip into a warm tea sleep

and forget the red strings 

that I connected the day before.

I'll curl my fingers around your long locked hair

because you hate your curls

and I want to show you that to me,

it does not matter.

I hope you are careful with how much you decide to trust yourself.

At times I can disappear too.

I will not tell you where I am.

What about trust then?

I can tell you are not well

so I will slowly sear together the parts of me that I had left unconnected

before I closed my eyes. 

Perhaps I will apologize for the pain of my detatchment,

but I have not fallen into the future's stride just yet.