Don’t trip, otherwise you’ll fall
It was summer that left me in a void, a void that encompassed not a single day in winter but a whole season that carried the weight of this feeling I’ve met before.
I carry this empty soul, like an ocean drifting me further from the sanctuary I had loved, it was a beacon that calls out at me when the moon retreats from its wake.
The air is swept from your lungs, like moving at 100 miles per hour but you cannot see or hear a thing. This disfigured image stands before me, we’ve met before I say, he nods as I lay my hands unknowingly over his and carries me back to where I’d tried to hide from before.












