Stumble.

I can walk beside you into the unknown, man’s greatest fear, or more likely I can stumble. Or I can stand still where I am and let you walk on without me. It’s pretty fucking easy to tell myself all the reasons I should stumble away from you, until you’re next to me and I only want to stumble into you. It’s pretty easy to tell myself all the reasons that walking away from you will steady your own stride and stop me from slowing you down with all my tripping and slip ups. But walking with you, walking towards you, makes me feel like I am walking a little taller, a little straighter, but my legs still shake with every step. And when I crash, will you be there before I hit the ground? When I can’t hold myself up any longer, again and again. When I stumble into you, I tend to fall asleep because you have kind of become my calm before the storm, a place that’s safe to let my guard down just a little bit for just a little while. My life is not something you really signed up for, you just don’t know it yet. But I know, and I do not want to be your burden, your little broken bird kept in a cage we can’t unlock. A little broken bird who doesn’t chirp, who doesn’t sing, who doesn’t speak of anything, because my head is screaming. When I break out I just fall over my own feet and my own words, not getting very far before I get locked back up. I'll just sit and chuckle at your white guy moves, enjoying the way you sing along to songs playing through the radio. This cage is something I am not good at breaking out of. One you should not have to try and like me through, that just isn’t fair to you. I already know my life won’t be fair to you, it’s never been fair to anyone before. Just let me know when you want me to stumble away and I will. But for now, for today I’ll stumble into you again, until one of us decides not to fall or not to catch the other anymore and until then, I’ll appreciate every time I look beside me and see you walking with me, slow and steady, we both know you don’t have to.