everything will be fine in no time at all
Caught in the courses, we seem to be lapsed into the ripples and creases of what we believed were. What I was, what was destined, written into a wrist like a perverse dream, now faded. Mists and twists and wrists, crumbling into tales and trails into what needs to be, what has to be forgotten. But love and loved ones forgone, like my pathetic attempts to grab hold to guttered history.

But I know better now. I'm hiding out for a better day. What's drawn out brings hope, which I have yet learnt to understand.