the room smells of baked cookies and as my hand reaches for the 5th one there is this smugness of sitting on the carpet surrounded by you. it is not the first time i feel grateful. i wish there is a way to paint my love on your walls. instead of putting nothing but words up here.
it has become a tradition. i float around, wear myself thin searching for a point in life. and you patch me up, pound in plenty of food, some common sense. and repeatedly tell me i need to eat more protein.
"Eat more protein!"
doesn't tofu count?
You lean back. the weight of you anchors me. It has been so long...
It's not a bad place to be, don't you think? the spot between friends and lovers.
I like to look at the way the shadows of your hair dance across your face. the way she laughs and raises her voice at the end of each sentences. the way you pretend to ask for opinions while you know exactly what you want. the way she hums as i run my hand across her hair. the way you all try so hard. cook a storm, box and build those muscles. keep and endure unbearableness. you strive to live strong. and i, to be like you.
i embrace you all. though i know i can never embrace enough.
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