there's a tightness in my chest.
it makes my heart pound.
makes my mortality so much closer.
but, i'm getting used to it now.
that's a lie.
sort of.
"the emotion is valid,
let it pass."
i watch it fly by,
it whooshes out the window...
along with gravity
and oxygen.
maybe there's no getting used to this-
my unending unraveling.
there is growth, though.
and strength and self love...
and beauty
in every little thing.
tightness. like holding a baby close to my chest.
like hugging someone who loves me.
makes my mortality sweeter.
makes my tenderness easier to bear.
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this made me think of a father letting his adult 'little girl' go. whether i am on or off about that, i like the feel of this.
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