2 months ago. Sunday, November 9, 2025 at 2:00 AM
It’s thin.
I flounder between the past and the present. I find myself often nostalgic, wishing for things to be the way they were. I daydream, and brainstorm ways to drag objects from the past across the threshold. I long for the way I use to feel, to hear the things I used to, to see the things I used to. I often recall the moments in which I didn’t feel so ashamed of being broken. I used to feel reveled, sought. My brokenness was intriguing; a marvel.
My pain felt poetic.