We are careless, words will flow, and we will speak like we think that we mean it. Maybe in that moment, we really did. We will throw around promises that carve into skins, dedications that last a month but are supposed to last a lifetime. We will throw around Love although we mean Like. We will lose precision of language, yet I have already fallen in love with the recklessness of our speech.
We will fumble and trip, a hundred times over our own bare feet, like life didn't create enough obstacles on its own. We run around in the mazes and turn away from the exits. We cut through the walls and form new paths that only make our lives even harder. But I will continue to run and trip and fall, fall over you and for you, on any given day.