Give me space.
Give me the life I always wanted.
The river running dry in my throat. Shutting down.
Give me a reason. To run from you and your imperfections. The warmth turned cold. Shut the gate from terrors.
Give me health. The fruit, the fig, the fall.
Walk away. Everlasting crimson cascading down my hair as the sky bleeds in mourning. Of us.
Guide me. My path unmeasured, unruly with tales of fear and promises of fortune.
Give me prayer. The words of a mother, the feel of another. Forever in your debt I am to be. A missive of heartache.
In the end, give me love.
I don’t want space.