House plant

I never imagined that you could drain a soul. That all the love given could turn into a void for all the love desired. That you could give your sweat for a world you’ve always dreamed off and ended going home to live in the cold.

We gift. We genuinely gift what we find inside us. Sometimes giving because that’s the movement of our heart. Giving what we lack to someone else who we find is in need giving because that’s who we are, that’s who I am, and I like the way happiness looks on you with my gift.

Somehow that gift giving makes me feel dull. It drains the happiness out of me. It drains all my good intentions and drives me to sleep. I don’t ever regret giving, not ever, but sometimes my giving hands do require a healing one. Sometimes all the love I give wants to find itself back home to me, back to my vacant house where I live and have room for it to be planted.

Sometimes the world we try to create is too much of a babe to appreciate the effort and the love we give. Sometimes I want to reap the benefit of my vision when my work is far from done. And sometimes, sometimes happens too often. It all just feels so common even when they’re not repetitive days.

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