bodies.

sad and sleepy thoughts.

we’re just bodies- collections of scars and past and future hopes and forgotten dreams and lost lovers. we’re not the same. we’re sized and shaped differently. we carry certain contexts that affect this. we are limbs and skin and brains and hearts. we are abused lungs and livers. we are muscle memory and aching bones.

we jut out awkwardly, sometimes encountering other bodies. we are knees and elbows bending and breaking with the current of the world. we are arms and legs. we can kick and punch and can be a weapon in war. or, we can be instruments of peace: an entanglement of limbs gripping a lover closer than ever before.

we bump into things or people- we bruise. we touch and are touched. we collect impressions of fingertips and lips. if our skin breaks, we bleed then scab and eventually scar over- and life goes on. our bodies are maps of memories, constant reminders of who once had a place here.

we are brains. sometimes we think too much, or not at all enough. we are hearts. we bleed.

we are glass. we fall in love then out of love. we shatter from the fall and become a ruin of shards.

we’re quite hazardous, really. just a bunch of jagged edges. we can cause harm with the slightest of motions or choices.

i don’t think people are meant to perfectly line up, though. i think it is beautiful to work with someone- another body, another heap of shards- and soften each other’s edges. to listen and love and learn and grow.  it’s scary, to compromise and be malleable; but there is so much treasure to be found in giving up a little of one’s self to understand and love another.

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