AMillionLittlePeople.

4.3.16

My fingers haven’t smoothed over the small squares of my keyboard in an intentional way for an uncomfortably long time. There’s a numbness I don’t remember lurking somewhere in me. I try to push it away, swallow it, breathe deeper. My hands shake beneath the temptation to stop.

Keep going. 

As this simple, clear advice slips from my mouth, I’m trampled and healed by its ferocity.

We keep going.

-b

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