iaremunyee

The misadventures of the heart and sometimes, the stomach.

(Ex)cuses.

Would he remember the important dates and the things you love? Or the right words to say to make you look to the floor and blush crimson? Would he take you to every bookstore possible? Would he take you to the movies and watch you instead? Would he love you at your ugliest? At your

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Still Alive.

What defines living? Is it the flow of blood in your veins? The rhythmic pumping of your heart? The rise and fall of your lungs? The mindless inhale, exhale, repeat? What if wanting to live requires you to be hooked up to machines? To have syringe after syringe of blood drawn from you? To have

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Quid Pro Quo.

For all the times you fed me when I was little; coo’ed and aah’ed so I would eat. For all the times you rocked me to sleep, and played my favorite lullaby. For all my favorite foods, never given as a reward – merely given. For always making too much food so I can have

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