cradled in the claw, felt safe. but the grasp turned into a squeeze slowly.
and now the nails pressed on my throat, slipped to getaway. left a scar in the worst place.
and you’d say “this chill, but its temporary, like a childhood or nice scenery….but..with seasons, the scenery changes”
“it’s okay. don’t explain it, mariah”
and you’d say “dont it sting in the most subtle way? like a scraped knee? or love you cant save. give it time and just watch it all fade.”
“just please dont explain it, mariah”
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