I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.
There are days that I cannot find the sun even though its right outside my goddamn window.
I will carry 17 grocery bags or die trying before making two trips.
I can’t do this.