Can the truth really set us free? Is freedom really definable? Or is it forever relative? Bound to our sufferings? What is freedom without you? What is freedom within you? The water rises higher now. Suffocation closing in. Oh darling, can’t you see? The way out is before us. Can’t you see the light beyond? I long for the sunshine and dry air. This putrid place is not a home. We can go now, together. Please move, please. I don’t want to go alone. I promise not to leave. I promise to love you there, as I’ve always loved you here. Our limbs grow numb. Paralysis soothing the ache. Tears lost amongst the climbing tide. The only fight left is that of our fingers and their stubborn refusal to let go.
-June
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im sorry
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i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i am sorry. am i sorry? are you? in the garden of sorrow grows miracles. delicate things. resilient things. i planted my apology. and prayed before the mound of disturbed earth. i watered it with tears and sang it to sleep, myself too. and in my dreams there we were. unarmed hearts in a glass house. i read to the sunflo…
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