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This was a tough day.
a tough weekend, tough week.
everything fell into place but it burned like a pit of petrol, too.

i am so very used to merely beginning that an ending seems like Hell.
ohh,, but a good one.
with lakes of glass.
hearts of ember.
fields of bullshit.

and i am only adding to it with every word that i speak.
it's almost like i shouldn't exist, but i do.

everything is easier when you're broken.
or a liar, really.

and today his voice was my comfort, Journal.
he held me close without even realizing it,,
what else could i ask for?