As I lay here and reflect upon these last few months,
I try to weave patterns from memories already worn thin
Grasping at threads to make a quilt of thought
Something to envelop me,
And to comfort that screaming, selfish child.
But no such luck, as yarns of anecdotes slip through my fingers
For getting to know myself was the hardest thing I could do.
About the Creator
Alex Odinson
Radio presenter and amateur writer. I like bad puns.
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