{prose} treasure

i gave myself away to everyone 

and then apologized when they came back for more and i was empty

i’m still haunted by how their voices echoed in my chest even after they left – 

-a

but the beauty in being drained is you get to fill yourself back up – new

this time with stardust, with maps and worn books, with brunch and bandaids, with flowers and films, journals and journeys;

this time with locks but also with keys

not because i am afraid for people to see what’s inside – but because i am a treasure and i want to be discovered, not stolen

i am sorry i let you think i was anything less than gold

 

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