just florence

and I never wanted anything from you
except everything you had (...)


and what was left after that too


c

loss

and again, there are no words.


just excruciating feelings, driving one all and every single wrong way possible.


yet to hurt: is it not valid?


how to feel it without undoing it?


how to wish and despair... ?

there is

the self that is never lost.


as it should not ever be.


and there's suffering.


so much, so bad, so... continuous.


may it be in the interest of good.


the best.


it is what i am hoping for.

cherished

words o' mine
where art thou?


(...)
lying in wait for those that wish to come to my fingers.