Roleplay Confessions Collection: Restraints and Restrictions
A/N: I don't know what to say here. I was inspired and wrote from the heart to say the least~ Grammar police, take heed.
could you imagine a family reunion? i think it was just you and i that were happy in the beginning. maybe i’m wrong. i don’t know anything about what used to be. the more i think about it, the less i feel i know. it causes a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach rather than my heart. my hopes were always up, but maybe things were bound to be the way they are. i want to sit and talk, all of us in a giant circle. maybe at a dinner table or around a bonfire. i bet the kids would like that. we’ll rent out homes on the water and let them play while the silence tries to eat us alive. it’ll suck because we’ll all be reminded of just how unhappy we are. they’ll be reminded of possessiveness as their sight burns green. we’ll see rainbows and talking dogs. we’ll laugh and mumble one inappropriate joke after another. we’ll drift from them only to be pulled apart from one another. the doors will shut with the kids locked away inside. our windows will be all that connects us because it’s all we have. limitations are unfair. they kind of hurt. maybe we won’t try a bonfire then. we’ll end up hurt one way or another and we’ll hurt them, guilt forcing its way into our veins. the truth never bleeds out. they’ll tape it up until the temporary pain fades. they’ll doctor us up and reattach our leashes so we won’t go astray. hold us close and make us pretend we’re all alright. will you come with me? take me for a ride on your motorcycle like you once promised. write that song with me. let’s go camping. talk together under the stars. let’s just go for coffee. the time will be brief, but we’ll be okay. we’ve resorted to taking what we’re allowed.
could you imagine a family reunion? i think it was just you and i that were happy in the beginning. maybe i’m wrong. i don’t know anything about what used to be. the more i think about it, the less i feel i know. it causes a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach rather than my heart. my hopes were always up, but maybe things were bound to be the way they are. i want to sit and talk, all of us in a giant circle. maybe at a dinner table or around a bonfire. i bet the kids would like that. we’ll rent out homes on the water and let them play while the silence tries to eat us alive. it’ll suck because we’ll all be reminded of just how unhappy we are. they’ll be reminded of possessiveness as their sight burns green. we’ll see rainbows and talking dogs. we’ll laugh and mumble one inappropriate joke after another. we’ll drift from them only to be pulled apart from one another. the doors will shut with the kids locked away inside. our windows will be all that connects us because it’s all we have. limitations are unfair. they kind of hurt. maybe we won’t try a bonfire then. we’ll end up hurt one way or another and we’ll hurt them, guilt forcing its way into our veins. the truth never bleeds out. they’ll tape it up until the temporary pain fades. they’ll doctor us up and reattach our leashes so we won’t go astray. hold us close and make us pretend we’re all alright. will you come with me? take me for a ride on your motorcycle like you once promised. write that song with me. let’s go camping. talk together under the stars. let’s just go for coffee. the time will be brief, but we’ll be okay. we’ve resorted to taking what we’re allowed.