what happens when your mothers tongue is tougher than a fist? I see more of myself in my father now than I ever did.
I don’t recall how distance came between us but in mirrors I tend to see it; in the reflection of a pint glass, the emptiness reminds me.
Stained glass vision from the intoxication. I always promised myself I would never turn into this. Pixelated morality, the lines are always blurry. I never see my smile clearly.
Funny how we always run into the things we are running away from. Where do I move forward from here?
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 7:51 PM UTC
what happens when your mothers tongue is tougher than a fist? I see more of myself in my father now than I ever did.
I don’t recall how distance came between us but in mirrors I tend to see it; in the reflection of a pint glass, the emptiness reminds me.
Stained glass vision from the intoxication. I always promised myself I would never turn into this. Pixelated morality, the lines are always blurry. I never see my smile clearly.
Funny how we always run into the things we are running away from. Where do I move forward from here?
