most of my life, I carried this habit of forgetting things. Dates, appointments, and scheduled events. Not that I wouldn't care enough, I just wasn't listening most of the time. Just hearing silently observing, the way people's eyes grew as the poised more emotion in their words, the way their hands would flicker at the change of a subject, and oh so how they would hide so many things under different tones they are a-costumed to. I've seen it all, saw every speck of dust in the pantry. Or maybe I was in my own head to do the same thing as they did, without blandly noticing it.
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surviving the storm
PoetryA collection of poems meant to soothe and release the pain from the rainy days
