Who are we to decide what we deserve in this world? When all we’ll ever do will never be enough to satisfy the essence of the word. Deserve. What does it mean? It’s such a delicate word where you roll your tongue towards the end. Like the taking of what it is due where you coil your arm outward and sweep it back to your base; like a kiss for a heroic: a type of currency where you exchange things of varying values and try to cheat the other that your item deserves to be traded for his item, as if they are of the same forge and temper and copper.
There it is again.
So easily drawn from your vocabulary, without a second thought, the word feels like the only one you could use in that sentence, like it should be lightly used without its many consequences or your many pretexts that indeed, it can be the appropriation of your fleeting feelings that you claim I deserve so much.
What do you know of what I deserve?
What do you know of the word itself?