Danger, Wrapped Like A Present.

This is a lot more whimsical and maybe even relatively simplistic compared to the stuff I write now, I wrote this about a year ago while I was in a relationship that I’m no longer in. It felt super weird looking back at all the emotions I felt so intensely and not being able to relate. While most of the thing I wrote a year back are cringe-inducing, this one doesn’t seem too bad. (And yes, the title was also written a year ago)

He has eyes you can swim in. Eyes you could drown in, until they suffocate you. Eyes that feel like they are reopening your scars and healing them at the same time. He has eyes you can look at, but those eyes won’t open doors for me. They won’t make me mean anything I say to them. I know this is crazy, but those eyes will never treat me the way six year old me wished they would. They won’t give me crazy romantic gestures at midnight, they won’t ever be my fantasy and I’ve been convincing myself that swimming, no, drowning, in disappointment is normal. Those eyes are danger, wrapped like a present.

 

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