Wallow.

We smile, we laugh, we talk, we think we’re friends.

But how many of these we’s sees the pain behind each smile and laugh and brave front we put forth?

How many would do something about it?

How many are equipped to handle us in our delicate broken pieces like shattered glass?

And how many would have the patience to put us together again?

Cyptic much?

Oh yes.

Angsty much?

Oh yes, yes, yes.

Because keeping track of my mind is like owning a pet. Sometimes it’s loose, sometimes it gets lost, and sometimes it just makes it’s way to the front yard and decides to stay there.

In case the title hasn’t tipped you off yet, this is me wallowing. And pondering. At the same time. Cause I can multitask like that.

“Such a funny thing, us humans and our emotions, and the faces we wear to mask those emotions.”

Sometimes it’s loose, sometimes it gets lost, and sometimes it just makes it’s way to the front yard and decides to stay there.
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