my crest of ink

these walls have been staring

what are you waiting for?

i need a moment

its not as easy as it looks


embodying solus

but i cant shake the watchful eyes

forego the parable

this ink belongs on paper


its how it feels that counts

no one has to know

what if somebody sees it

what if


so this is the raw me

vulnerable in every way

there is strength in these lines

it gets easier i suppose


the heart is made of muscle after all


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