not as comforted by the absence of shore
as i was before, when i prayed for the shell to close
now i stare into the sun waiting for doors to show
i cradle all my blemishes, the flower, grip the thorns
rabbits are telling me its time to go yet my internality remains reposed
comforted by the thought of piercing arrows
comforted by the sweet monsters voice
haven’t felt in so long, a zoo animals futile joy