can I just say that I love the shoulder/neck roll that Shepard started doing as an idle in me2
mostly because it fuels my headcanon that the Cerberus dudes fucked something up with how the joints fit and now they click or grind or make this really obscenely loud popping sound and Shepard does it around Miranda just to be petty
and every time it happens Miranda like, visibly cringes, and Shepard’s like “you hear that? that didn’t used to happen. THAT’S NOT SOMETHING MY JOINTS DID, MIRANDA. YOU FUCKED UP MY JOINTS AND NOW THEY CLICK. I’M STUCK WITH CLICKY JOINTS, MIRANDA”
Your gravestone weighs heavier on my shoulders
than it does on the earth it sits on. Sometimes
I try to push it off my chest, but most days I let
it crush me; curl up with it hugging my ribs like
your arms did. You don’t know how during the
day I let other people’s hands attempt to fit in the
imprints you made in my skeleton, and I come
back to your coffin each evening, hoping you won’t
notice my ways of survival.
the weight of losing you // Haley Hendrick (from my upcoming chapbook What Happens When You Leave A Writer)
I drew up a small picture to show you how I fit into it, obviously it’s not accurate because whats proportions but my head rests at the top of the triangle with my eyes at the top of the eye hole to see, and my shoulders hit the edges. From there my arms just kind of comfortably rest to my side on the bottom, occasionally i’ll bring them up to lift the triangle a little bit if I need to look up, since my eyes are at the top of the eye hole I can see directly forward and down.
When a boy tells you he loves you, he might mean that he loves you. Or he might mean that he wants to fit his hands over the flare of your hips. Or he might mean dear god please hold me because I don’t know how to hold myself and for once I jus want to know what love means.
Those can all be beautiful things.
But what a boy usually does not mean when he says I love you is, it’s okay to cry all the time because you will always have my shoulder. He does not mean, I know how to love. He does not mean, I will love you no matter what. He does not mean, I will love the messy you, the one with fiery hair and broken hands and tattoos. He does not mean, I understand what I’m saying.
But I did them all for him anyways.
Because he wasn’t a man yet and I was still just a girl and I didn’t really know what loving was either until he broke all those promises and I realized if love was anything, it was not that. And to be honest I always hates when my mother told me to wait for a man. Because, I suppose, a little girl didn’t know what a man was.
But when a man says he loves you, he usually means, I love you. He means, I won’t always have time to kiss you but I love you. He means, you will hate me some days and I will hang up on you on others. But I love you. He means, I get it. It’s hard. I love you.
It worth waiting for.
So many times, I listened to the boys, and I let them destroy me