I won’t know if you have visited my world until tomorrow.
And so, all that is left is to make moves towards what feels like vitality.
Writing does feel like vitality,
When it doesn’t try to piece together a conversation,
Where there may not be one,
Or the meaning is not clear.
It just seemed like you had abandoned me.
I am dreaming of the coast today,
But it is a different kind of wholesome.
And all the uncomfortable sensory memories come flooding in.
