It is quite possibly the longest
and simultaneously the shortest relationship
I can ever have.
I first considered you to be a harder commitment,
something that required years of and years of effort and thought
to even start feeling content.
But now,
two months in
I can't see my life without you.
My left hand is finally painted,
decorated the way I dreamed
and I'm not feeling even a shred of remorse.
Sometimes I look at my hand,
and I can no longer picture a point in time
where there were no stars present
on my night sky.
I want a sibling,
but there's some trepidation
maybe I won't be as satisfied as I am now.
I should quit while I'm ahead
but then I think about
how I feel trapped in my own body,
how these little modifications help me feel a little less
trapped.
and I'm okay with going under the needle
again.
