Tuesday, January 22, 2013


Today I feel like I will never not be broken, and that's an ugly thing to face.

I feel like I have yet to, nor will I ever, become. Something. Anything.

There can be no amount of love or tea or friendship or gentleness towards oneself that will fill that hole inside, the one shaped in my father's silhouette. Blackened.

I know these feelings will go away.

But I also know they will come back.

It's that last bit that's the worst.