2 years
732 days
104 weeks
17,568 hours
1,054,080 minutes
63,244,800 seconds
i don’t really talk about it. i don’t know how, or even if i would really want to in the first place. but it’s always there, always. i can feel it, pressing down on me and closing up my throat and blurring my vision.
some days it’s easier, some days it’s harder, but every day it’s there. every day. it’s there.
it’s there every day.
my heart and my mind wriggle and writhe around it the way your tongue investigates the gouged out hole where a tooth used to be post-extraction. curious, investigative, cautious. except, if you have a tooth pulled eventually the wound heals. it closes up and you forget about it and go about your business as usual. it’s temporary, transitive, fleeting.
mine :
