I miss taking the train in the mornings and the subways in the evenings when I spent last summer in Philadelphia more than I miss you.
Iām more confused in a way that forgives myself and Iām more creative in the work that i do. Iām more honest in all aspects and more understanding in my suspects.
You ran the maze past sanity and doubt as if your skies with the stone rock
could speak past a whisper.
I hid in perfume bottles notes to my old self and I buried the harbinger dolls.