It’s a damning process storing every thought , worry
tucked unfolded mostly
so the space feels empty, sterile to the curious.
No presence or joy
broken soul alone
though an open door of life nurtured love.
No space for love or hate-tucked unfolded mostly,
muted and muffled by an unnatural shhhh…
One thought on “Sick unto death”
Loved this! Brutally honest👍yet captures the essence of it all.