seven years

sometimes there aren’t safe places to put the way that we feel. and then secrets come seeping into dreams, or worse into the dreams of those you keep company with, leave you feeling raw, exposed, and worn thin in the very places you are trying so hard to take care of. if you wrap something in bandages but the wounds beneath never heal is still considered fixed?

there is something special about the mornings. as if it is the only time we can really see one another. people have the tendency to be all open nerve endings and truth right after they wake up. that’s when you look very real. tangled limbs and open windows. if you can be taken by someone in the morning I am sure you can be taken by them anywhere.

there are vast spaces we keep unexplored in our nature, and when we meet someone that ventures into uncharted areas it can trick you into feeling like someone new. On a cold walk last night in these empty streets a friend told me that every seven years we become an entirely new person. that quite literally every single cell in our body and bones regenerates.

what then?


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