someplace simple

my thoughts are trailing behind me,

like threads from a broken sweater

i am trying to walk a straight line

so that they might unravel better

how fortunate are those

who can keep them neatly wound

i envy that they can say so much

without releasing any sound

conversely i rather enjoy the messiness

it forces me to pause

even after so many years in here

i still manage to get lost

leah ruthe

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