just believe. just breath.here i am.
in my new home.
surrounded by boxes and furniture, both of which are mimicking my soul's cry.
yet, i cannot find it. i cannot locate the place inside that feels entirely motivated to nest. where did you go, wee child?
i praise god for words sometimes. they seem to be my only form of most authentic therapy.
happy slightly buzzed, melancholic friday eve - lovely lovely eyes.