I Will Point Myself | 12.29.20

Trapped in a valley, in a mountainous swath of land that can feel like a saucepan with a rattling lid, clouds like cover, repetition like heat to make me boil. So long now we’ve been stuck here, waiting for something new, waiting to begin living the life we spent so long working for. I know it’ll come, we all know this by now, but knowing sometimes doesn’t make things better, doesn’t soothe the ache. I’ve a heart built for jagged ragged shorelines and small boats bobbing in waves. I’ve a soul made for salt water, for sea birds calling in some dark fog.

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