feel nothing sometimes,
see nothing but blood.
feel it all sometimes,
like my life depends on it.
too much, too rough.
my worst quality.
crying too much, thinking too late.
“too much,” “for all to see.”
“don’t you want to understand?”
but now I know,
nothing more beautiful than hugging alone.
now I know,
I feel too much.
nothing more beautiful than hugging my own.
