Imagine all the years I’ve been through, sharp edges worn away like glass at the beach. Persistence of time eventually breaking through. I’m too tired to carry anything on my shoulders, so they dont slouch as much as they used to. And I cant remember what I used to keep there now. A freedom I could use in my youth.
What did I used to drag behind me? No ritual, no name, no purpose. Thoughts of names pull up empty syllables, caught in my throat like a snag line. But not choking me.
Whats worse was having little to learn from after all of it.














