about you. when i look at you, sometimes i can tell how much you've loved in your life. i can feel how much heart you've given away. it's like there's bits of you missing.
All i want to do is catch them in the air, those bits of you, that are slowing gliding down through the air, like a feather. the wind holding the bits of you up enough that they don't ever land on the ground too hard.
Thank goodness they didn't shatter. Thank goodness you weren't made of glass, or maybe I would never see those bits of you, floating in front of me. Those pieces of love you've already let go of.
I wish I could catch them and keep them for myself. They aren't mine, though.
Even if I tried, my hand wouldn't grasp them. The feathers would float just past my fingertips, dancing around my hand. Teasing me.
They weren't made for me. I think I can learn to know that's okay. Because it is okay. It's okay that life may never let me have my own bits of you. A real part of me hopes it does. Wishes. But I can't control that. You can't either. And that's okay.
Because you'll keep loving and floating and loving. You'll lose more bits of you too.
But that's okay, because I will too.