bunnisie

the thing is that when the music beats at my temples, when these voices surge and crash over my head, i lose myself in the tide; the thing is i have been adrift without a compass, sans dictionary for the language of wind or stars; the thing is i have been building a shelter out of my own life-raft and dressing the gaps with pieces of my soul. the thing is— i have been teetering and now all of my walls are coming down.