Sometimes we don't win. Sometimes our goals feel a million steps away from us. Sometimes the ground beans I drink from bites back
with teeth I didn't know it had,
a little bit like stalagmites
from an underwater
cave.
Sometimes this gnawing termite wins instead. Sometimes the only thing biting me, or
digging into my own skin until I can see the pink tendons beneath, is just me in the bathroom with the door locked.
YOU ARE READING
I Can't Feel At Home In This World Anymore
Poetry⛰ From a scrappy and tired nobody, to whom it may concern; Welcome. It's cold in the sunlight, warm in the shade, and the sweetgrass grows bigger than bamboo shoots. "Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you! And I can't feel at home in this wo...
