“No meaning of mine is in your eyes.” -Lina


I was placed on a shelf, always being looked up to until you would stand up.

Always in arm’s reach but never actually being reached out to unless to put me back into place, after wandering off.

Standing in the shallow end of your heart I wondered what it would be/feel like to be able to swim to the deep, to kill that burning curiosity. To rid of all the memories of just watching from afar, most of them.


Patience paid off and the dust that covered the shelf was brushed away. I walked away with scratches but a rejuvenated will.