andreim

The shallowness of the grave calls us. It births us and haunts us. It wakes us into digging. Downwards and upwards. Inwards and outwards. It makes us love and fuck one another. It makes us hurt and nurture each other. It makes us sad and long for past illusions. It makes us smile and laugh of future tears. It makes us start a ripple of mistakes. It makes us waste a lifetime fixing them. It makes us kind and furious. It makes us cruel and curious. It makes us hungry. It makes us sick. It makes us brief. It makes us fickle. It leaves us empty. It never leaves us be. We do not know why the shallowness calls. We do not know what