I've been implored by conversation and my own pieces I've taken from it to find comfort in the absence of perfection.
I told myself today: Find comfort in your flaws, my friend for they are a part of you and you must love them just as much as you love the good parts because it is you and you are always going to be your greatest love or your greatest loss.
Torn skin stings where it is starting to heal....
I have conflicting beasts inside me duking it out for the better half of the meat. The juicier, larger half.
lonely, maybe? afraid to be anxious but afraid to pop a Xanax just to feed the addiction and die a little more inside.
Seeking out comfort in seemingly more oedipus-like fashions. Take that as you will. (I don't care.)
my thumb gets near my mouth I have the urge to **** it in between my lips and roll my tongue around its sweet comfort like a child I can no longer be but such comfort I get in warm bursts from this pleasant incursion