Good morning, Bran. That feeling of “when you get thrown away over and over, you become part of the scenery.” I really understood that. When people keep getting hurt, they even get tired of being angry, and little by little, they start closing off their emotions. But the fact that you’re still able to write a poem like this made me feel like there’s still a power to feel left inside you, Bran.
Good morning, Bran. That feeling of “when you get thrown away over and over, you become part of the scenery.” I really understood that. When people keep getting hurt, they even get tired of being angry, and little by little, they start closing off their emotions. But the fact that you’re still able to write a poem like this made me feel like there’s still a power to feel left inside you, Bran.
Mornin!
Oh, that poem wasn’t about me.
Well, not past the position of observer.
I feel too much, in fact.
I’m learning discernment-though
Holding boundaries.
I usually! get syphoned off of.
I had three, different women in my mind.
If they were to read it, they would know.
Thank you, for the empathy-regardless.
*darling boy, is a reference to woman #3’s actual son. Who was maybe five.
At the time. I was creeped out! by the fact that she didn’t seem to care? that her kids could hear us.
Insisting, on leaving her bedroom door cracked.
This was the first time, I had stayed the night.
If you know? what I mean.
I refused in the end, for their sake.
😉