"working on my faults and cracks..."


couple of wires in my heart are broke

It's hard to pinpoint where exactly this summer has gone. Without any bearing on where I've been or what I've done, it feels more like I've just caught myself after sifting through the pockets of a mess pack for my apartment keys, or my phone as it rings. Behind the oblivious scene on my white porch, the world moves as though in a time lapse, waiting not even for me. My hand finally stumbles into the keys. They jangle, finally finding the lock as I speak into the waiting phone. I look up, concentration broken.

And suddenly I realize it's August, and the sun is setting.

The DI is still very much alive and well. Thanks for checking back. Just couldn't find my damn keys.
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