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i am a house with the doors left open for too long. too many footsteps have walked in dragging their storms with them. i do not know how to tell them i have no space left to shelter their rain. i try to listen, to nod, to stay— but the ceiling is cracking. i can’t hold up another storm. so maybe this time, i will lock the door. i will sit in the quiet and hold my own hand first.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things