Dear Me

Feb 8 | 2023

Dear Wit,

What hurts now? What hurts more? What hurts secretly?

‘Truthfully?’

It hurts everywhere.

Depth is for the isolate.

Substance is for the eunuch.

Grace is for the untouchable.

Honor is for the alone.

Eyes are to see what the blind couldn’t.

But everyone is blind. And it’s deafening in here.