other people make me lonely.





i'm so terribly confused. i find choices have been made without the foghorn, lighthouse warnings and i'm no longer the malleable claygirl i once was. baked and hardened and capable of cracks and crumbling. how much of a sapling i was, then. and didn't even know. this is not helping. i search my secrets, climb under the bed and dusty. where there were answers aren't even questions.

i give up in small apportionments each day.

///

you have given me nothing
I didn't have to take
and I am still empty
handed.

///

I am just a little rusty
lock, a bit seized up inside, a bit crouched
down in fear, frozen
at the big wide world out there
at the big wide world in me

at the ugliness where the beauty should be