Red Thread
Alot of the time I find myself
wanting all of the things that I cannot;
Things that I shouldn't.
Times that are long past gone.
I often lose myself in thought.
Finding the importance of memories.
The times sectioned off in joy and pain.
Pages that flutter vividly like they've just happened the day before.
My heart is worn thin, once full of red thread.
None was given in vain. Though it tangles.
Given purpose wherever it lands.
Pulled almost until nothing is left.
I tied a piece to your wrist and it follows you always
Almost none existent, over time I've watched this thread
Loom itself into one of my favorite memories.
A reminder of a girl I knew, a girl that I loved.
And I'd like to think that with each tug. That she's somewhat thinking of me too
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