• i used to be nomadic, but i've been here for so long. i thought that staying for people would ensure my stability. however, if you don't leave, they do. it's almost agony when somebody leaves you. when you leave, there is an empty space where that person once resided. when you get left, there is a blast of a bomb and they disappear. however, salvation always arrives in the strangest of ways. when you're on the tiled floor, somebody will come over and hold your hair back while you get sick. when you're on the brink, somebody will grab your hand and their palms will be soft. my heart feels like the moon. i've been losing touch with people. they probably think i hate them or something. i don't. i'm stretched thin and spaced out. i just gotta cement over these craters with indifference.

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