So many emotions, so little time to prefect the way in which we deal with them.
looking to expensive distractions, past the free interactions.
Sold. molded like perfect triangles to fit into concretely constructed squares
pondering why the fit doesn't feel right
not long enough to get past the discomfort and see the distortion, clouding dreams
every once in a while I'm reminded of where I came from. I move in the opposing direction of my current path to reconnect and reunite the fuzzy feeling of numbness that comes with the comfort of strong drink
I am an emotional toddler learning how to construct sentences with the right tone to articulate my feeling to result in a fluid adult conversation.
My comfort is in the feel of the smooth yellow covering of a number 2 pencil and the sound of led as it scratches and etches the words I may or may not ever speak with my lips.
Just newly getting aquatinted with the sound of my own voice and the soft features of my youthful face.
confronting myself daily
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