the mouth of a hollow tree.

People are making dresses, custom made dresses for me and I feel guilty about my success as I look at the long face[s] of people I'm close to.

I need to focus on what I came here to do and not be concerned with affection and have everything be exactly as I want it to be.

The problem is, I am capable of becoming that person again. The kind of person that desperately wants tomato soup when she's sick but doesn't ask for help because she doesn't want to be a bother and doesn't want to be taken care of.

If I were to be truthful, I would say I feel like a fool chasing a fool.

Because I feel my feet moving backwards, stepping into that place, that hollow tree trunk that I use to always be.