Bring me some sunshine, my darling. You tell me time is running out yet won't give me a hand. She's clever and has so much more to say to you. She's small and defies gravity, because of you. She's stunning, and I am stone. We seem to be great but when we're so close, we don't realize that we're worlds apart. I'm vulnerable and I feel so weak for not knowing what's to come. For not knowing where to go from here. And you ignore my imperfections, you've accepted all that I am. But you don't tell me my insecurities will pass. You don't take advantage of my weakness to make me stronger. You, and the rest of the world, "know" I'll be okay. And I will. Which ironically seems to weaken me. And I'm tired, oh so tired, of trying to bask in the false sunshine. I want you to bring me some, my darling.
J.
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