Willow Pillow
sometimes, i take showers with my socks still on
I’m not a writer but it’s times like this that I wish I were. I have so many thoughts racing through my head but when I go to write them out, I’m useless. The things I’m thinking are important. I’m making revelations that I can not communicate. I’m rushing from one thing to the next without eloquence and my mind is full to the point of overflowing.
I’m ignoring my itching scars. They’re nagging me to remember them. If only I had the patience for history.
I wish I was smarter. Smart enough to figure out the answers to the questions I will never figure out. Or maybe smart enough to know enough to stop trying.
