A glass wall, almost.

Updated: Jan 12

Soundproofed, tinted from your side.

We share the spirit of your jasmine shrub, a feeble houseplant.

Intentional presence, neglected.

There is t h u n d e r striking my soul, elicited by your audacious remarks, ruinous conduct, surrendered humanity.

Every fibre of you, this house, haunted by your t h u n d e r, leaks it’s way into the holes left by what has been unlearnt, gladly forgotten…


Smash

rumble

bang

s n a p.

I expect and am conditioned to this almost ethereal disappointment?

What the fuck?

This feeling of dread has always been easily erupted, and like forecasted rain, I expect short lived harmony.

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The sentiment of keeping your pillows hugged tight at night. The softness you accept of the rain against the glass of your window. The generosity you grant to others in giving time, a shoulder. The ca