i know no home.

today was certainly not my own - i did not recognise the way the time did fold, and flex, and strip my flesh down from its weary bone.

so much sadness (guilt, sadness, guilt) overcomes me now - i cannot think to speak. the anguish furrowed in my brow, the beaten branch that does not bow, the posed word to torment the weak

to make my red eyes leak-- oh

i am afraid i won't know how to speak.