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Someday this pain will be useful to me
adrift in a sea of dysfunction
I find comfort and acceptance in me
tree house
doll house
glass house
little voices
and little illusions
understanding, kindness, compassion, and consideration…
perfectly still

I'm Sorry
I promise

Perhaps being old is having padded rooms
inside your head,
and people in them acting
People you know,
yet can’t quite recognize,
each looms
Like a deep loss restored
Casting stones at your glass house

adrift...
adrift...