Self is / I am: a sloppy mess of life, bundled up and spilling out.
Even in the best moments, so many rough edges.
Here I am giving too-long looks and undeserved bitch stares, too-short hugs and unsaid gratitudes. Here I am with too many words and too many silences, with the wrong thing at the right time or the right thing at the wrong time. Cross the be…
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