Your name engraved
I have your name engraved in my heart. Not written. Not penciled in with the option to erase. Engraved. The way my grandmother used to carve the date into the lid of a jar so she’d remember when it was sealed. You are sealed in me like that. Dated. Preserved. Not because I decided to keep you, but because the cutting happened before I realized it was permanent. I thought I was just letting someone close. I didn’t know closeness came with a knife.
And the worst part isn’t that it’s there. It’s that you don’t feel it. You walk around with your own name sitting loose in your mouth, handing it to strangers and women who will hear it and not hesitate the way I did. And I’m here living with it carved into something I use every day. You gave me your name like change at a register. I received it like an inscription. Like something etched into the only wall I can’t repaint. You are written into me in a language I can’t unlearn. And you have no idea. You just think that I “don’t get it”.
Umi, Very strong emotions. Language as a cutting knife. Letting a name be handed over blindly. Sealed shut. Choosing to keep. Inscriptions that felt like stones upon the water. With the eye’s closed, it is tough to seen the sun or stars. But with them open, through the wind anyone can speak. Mountains can rise. Rivers can flood the village. But the names on the walls remain. Time pounds them away. A sharpened chisel until the names become sealed, closed within, like you said. Words are given, and we carve them with precision. These words are from reading what you wrote. Someone hurt you. Intentional or not. But it shows that things matter to you. That you store them like treasures. That means you feel far beyond the hearts of most. That is a wonderful trait. Anyone who you keep around is a blessed person. Your struggles are powerful. Clarity in writing is amazing👏
Why your writing hitting the feels every time these days