I know what I am. I am a familiar to my faults.
I line them up each morning and sound them off at the top of my lungs. I hold them in my arms and rock them back to sleep every night. They cling to me as scars linger on the skin. They burst out during the most inopportune moments; breaking through silence like water through rust.
Mar 16, 2024
Mar 16, 2024 at 7:50 AM UTC
I know what I am. I am a familiar to my faults.
I line them up each morning and sound them off at the top of my lungs. I hold them in my arms and rock them back to sleep every night. They cling to me as scars linger on the skin. They burst out during the most inopportune moments; breaking through silence like water through rust.
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