I’ve been trying to find words that explain how I feel
and the thing is that I’m just screaming inside.
it isn’t polite, it isn’t mature, it isn’t compartmentalizable
it’s not even carnal
it’s like my soul is on fire, like I’m twisted and being tortured
like my heart is shattered into pieces so small I struggle to cup them in my hands as they spill over
mini fractals in the sand-like grains
like I’m in the dark, and I don’t see the light
like there’s no way forward, no way out, no way at all
like there’s no way forward, no way out, no way at all
and so I’ll post about my stupid s
and so I’ll post about my stupid shit
I’ll post about the surface and the mundane
I’ll amplify the joys and the moments that hold echoes of completeness
because at least those things can be put into words