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.
find
me
a
place.
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.
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