Your presence comes hand in hand with this pressure,
I cannot phathom the words to say or the expressions to place.
I feel this inescapable uneased.
This inenscapable thudding of my brain as it tries to figure out how best it can open a fragment of my heart to project onto a floor for another to
Mishear
Misinterpret
Misread
Or simply ignore.
It is a war of constant.
It is a run for miles.
It is a search for what doesn't want to be found in that moment.
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC