Deep Thoughts: What is Lost

is it frailty or is armor which makes us so hard?

all those soft spots deabting.

no time for.

just prove i am. have been. see through the glass. or at least have been cut by it.

she didn't say, but wrote in the way she often does.

a quarter turn of greif mixed with a shot of what if.

and drinking it down she wondered how the moring would treat her.

cold templates of thoughts unfilled. or ready peages at her beckon.

but as she awoke she was sure of which she'd receive. but didn't udnerstand what more it more could still want from her.

and so she spoke. again. not out loud, but in her passive way. aaking questions she never imaigned being able to answer.

and witing essays that would eventually contradict her shortcomings.

what is lost, not gone. only held tenative with soft gloves.

what is gone. how i shall rectify what still is.