poetry
someday this pain will be useful
adrift in a sea of dysfunction
comfort and acceptance
tree house
doll house
glass house
little voices
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 name
each looms
like a deep loss restored
casting stones at your glass house
glass house