I'm breathing into and out to the ether. Calmly, I meet my deadlines and somehow never measure to be good enough, despite giving all I have to a place that does not care for my health. Does not care for my hardships. Does not mind my time nor my abilities.
What's going to happen when I die? The falling of each letter will bury me deeper in the ground as I take my experiences with me, all the years of words quietly into my bones, disintegrating for a place on earth that does not care.
What's going to happen when I die? The falling of each letter will bury me deeper in the ground as I take my experiences with me, all the years of words quietly into my bones, disintegrating for a place on earth that does not care.