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Loop Around Me.

Slowly crochet around me, inch by inch, wrapping me in soft yarn. The thin instrument clinks when it falls, and I know because it slipped from my fingers before. I pick it up and try again. I don’t know how to crochet, but there’s something comforting about the idea of surrounding myself in those simple, repetitive patterns. 

Each loop feels like a tiny shield. Don’t let them find me. I want to stay hidden, away from the red numbers circled on the calendar, the ones that demand attention and insist I show up. Don't let them find me. Compromise, sacrifice, just be there until you aren't here anymore. I don't think I have anymore to give.

To dream to your idea of realistic, to see visions only you can see and execute. If I leaped, you’d say I jumped the wrong way.

You tell me to dream within your limits, to shape my vision to fit your reality. But it’s mine because I see it clearly. I believe in it, even if you can’t. Don’t look at me with doubt; I need you to trust in what I’m trying to create. If you choose me, take me fully, with all my flaws and hopes. Or is there some easier way for me to fade away quietly? To be here, but not really?

Comments

  1. everything you write, I relate to it, it's like we both have the same day all the time, Great work once again

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