Museum
I used to believe in signs. Perhaps I still do, but I don't go looking anymore.
Words I thought were painted vividly are showing themselves to me but they're as muddled as braille. Honestly! Constantly wishing and hoping...
If the Gods wish for me to read riddles, I wish that they would please take my permission and not hold back when they hit me with "Hello" square in the face.
There's a strange reassurance in your existence that helps remind me of mine - as if being here and loving you has begun to make me real.
I'll let you into my brain. Walk amongst my favorite memories, safeguarded behind ropes and glass. I won't let you touch them. The broken little girl I have let you see isn't the one you're touching when you lay your hands on me. The heart you're watching beat behind the gilded sign is too damaged to ever be whole again. Remember, you're here on a free day pass. A view like this isn't going to last long. I'll show you a glimpse of who I am and shutter the doors because I saw that you weren't paying attention. I will recount all of my favorite memories; not that you have any interest in getting to know who I am. You are a visitor, only welcome to listen.
It's not like I can't live without you. I've done that already. It's just that suddenly being without you feels unnatural. I've never been willing to pull the sun out of the sky for anyone.
Memories are meant for visitation not for residency. I never wanted to be loved. It's just that being in the same room as your presence hits me in a place within that tells me I could have fallen in love with you with my eyes closed. The memory of the sparkle in your eye that you had watching me when you thought I didn't see you has made a home in my mind. It was as if something inside of you had caught fire. It was as beautiful as it was unsettling.
Carefully pay attention to the signs that read "Do not touch" and "For safety reasons, stay inside of this line". I wish you had brought a sledgehammer.
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