languit

just thinking of it ruptures my resolve in that hollow space where one-winged butterflies flutter nervously and fight or flight is a one-option instinct seeing others, well, that's worse. they're brave. they bear their mental battle scars and laugh off ancient sins whilst I run and hide from any chance of letting my past slip                                                                                             away cling it close under sleeves of normalcy away from prying eyes and unfortunate implications covered by a fear of                   , dangling in the open vulnerability an unanswered question an unlocked, unopened door u

you admire the ocean's persistence in the way it chases land sinking back in defeat yet always waking again but I watch the waves rising and crashing and falling against the shore and see only the tired motions of something that has long forgotten what it does that for