Difficult Layers
Dec 22, 2022
Sometimes my hands bleed from the cold,
and I accidentally draw in one eyebrow darker than the other.
My professor says I am an enigma.
They see layers
and layers
and layers
but there is no end.
I save the meanest things you’ve said to me
so that when I miss you,
I can read them back
and remember why some people are better
being missed than sought after.
I need to stop searching for an ending
inside of places that never wanted to begin.
There is never a good time for leaving.
But I still believe there is a lot of good left in this world.
