I fold conversations
like brittle paper,
pressing creases
into apologies
that never quite align.
Every goodbye
is a frayed thread
I knot with trembling teeth
but the fabric still unravels,
and my leaving
bleeds ragged.
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 6:31 AM UTC
I fold conversations
like brittle paper,
pressing creases
into apologies
that never quite align.
Every goodbye
is a frayed thread
I knot with trembling teeth
but the fabric still unravels,
and my leaving
bleeds ragged.