My body is a mystery. Even to myself. I can burn like kerosene and still never explode. And that might not even be your fault. Maybe the wrong song was playing maybe I was worried about something random maybe my little toe was itching maybe the room was too cold
Leaving my body hungry sometimes was never your mistake and never a problem
But leaving my heart and my soul unfinished for so long
that was the real crime
that’s what made me leave.
