sometimes i find myself believing an opinion can harm not if delivered by a friend

when a few words are sent away

they find no destination and they do not return

the highways of doers were built above my head

no doorbells

no regrets

by the time i had taught her to avoid inevitable encouters she had made a hundred friends

back

hope

there's change at my fingertips but I can't touch and I can't reach
and I can't think of anything better to do

you

the smart one

unbreakable

At Malabia on the dot of nine

h+

...

I'm not what I'd be 


                 if you could have someone like me

often

scary clouds and thoughts of storms
my human wins, my human runs
I follow

unwanted

the simple step, unwanted calm and need of rest

beneath

prevention

hope always straight lines. foggy straight paths. un-hide. no back. no loops.