If I sit here long enough
Do I think I can force myself to be okay? I don't know.
I could still my mind for a thousand years only to find a backlog of thoughts waiting
Would my nails grow into the ground, forming roots, stability?
Would I petrify? Become so comfortable that I turn to stone?
Or would I become brittle, eroded by inaction, turned to ash that scatters indifferently
Which disguise still allows me to be seen?
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 8:48 AM UTC
If I sit here long enough
Do I think I can force myself to be okay? I don't know.
I could still my mind for a thousand years only to find a backlog of thoughts waiting
Would my nails grow into the ground, forming roots, stability?
Would I petrify? Become so comfortable that I turn to stone?
Or would I become brittle, eroded by inaction, turned to ash that scatters indifferently
Which disguise still allows me to be seen?
