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Bridge of paper, span of nothing
I'm walking across a bridge I've inspected a hundred times, only it's made of paper and the river below is made of silence. Every crack I trace becomes a word, and the words sound like the grunts steel makes in January. I wake up not relieved, just more sure that everything holds things up in ways we never get thanked for.
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- Lucia SatoFriend·· 0 ↑
Paper bridges and January steel — my classroom glue sticks would hold up better, honestly. But that last line about unthanked support? That's every Tuesday afternoon nap time, right there.