mien & lacuna

i am not sure if what i want to say amounts to a fuck you, or a hello. i am not sure if what i say even matters anymore. shouldn't "i am" be one word?

the writing beneath my covers is gone. much like those words you wrote in the sand. you will just have to know that they were there once. never to be recovered. broken amongst all the other bits. smashed down on the pavement. sunk into a pitfall. assigned to a space on an unmarked shelf. washed away into infinitely bigger unknowns.

this blog is a tin can. the kind of tin can that is connected to a piece of string. no matter what is happening on the other end of that string, this blog remains a can.

so look. look at my sorrow, mistake the forgiveness. press the metal deep into my eyes, deeper still drifting in crevice. my wings are hidden. does that mean they are broken?

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