how easy it is, to say you will raise your voice, and never make a sound. it's always... i'm slipping through; i never like the idea of people looking, and the idea of bothering them with my words, is even worse? and i don't why this would be. we're all scared the same.
what are we afraid of? the velocity of their silence? the quickening of their eyes, sockets, judgment. it is hard not to feel trapped in that: you may only submit your noise, to the forest...
i feel great, i feel a little worse.
but we always raise up, when we're worse.
No comments:
Post a Comment