How Can I Take Up My Mat And Walk?

How can I pick up my mat and walk?

For so long you were the sand beneath my toes, telling stories to these blinded eyes in brail and pebbles. Now everything is you: My mattress speaks of times in each others arms, my music strums chords that echo into my stomach and churn the acid. My glasses and my hair, this whole person I have become and who I really am. They are all you now. You never had a knack for timing and now was the worst time.

How can I take up my mat and walk?

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