I am doing well. Not the same as usual, It’s different this time. This well looks like Counselling sessions, Tissues, Tears on the couch. Like calling a friend Since no one is there. Like taking
The black is creeping closer. You say this as though You’ve already given up, As if you won’t keep fighting To see the fullness of your cup. I want to argue, To shake you, To
It is nothing, Or at least, nothing of any value. He takes it and places it on the wheel, It begins turning, Slowly at first, and then faster and faster Until it is almost unmanageable.
I am on a journey toward figuring out who exactly I am. Often I think that I am too much. I am too much sunshine, Too much energy, Too much sap, Too much love, Too