And I am somewhat glad
to be home among the sunshine...
There is an end to me and you,
but not to us...
I hide the lonely
under flannel sheets...
I don't think it can ever be
properly expressed...
Some things you just can’t speak about
Autumn comes after a hot Summer...
like metaphors
undeciphered...
I am on the precipice
of reeling in this emotion...
My body is a prison;
frozen fingertips hunch...
I rely on little things
to make it to the next horizon...
“…and the wound was a place of shelter for...
You sincerely ask. You speak the grief I’ve been...
I ask myself what I really want from you.
How can I excavate my truth if you are...
It was raining.
Wind was straining...