i can tell the diameter of my personhood is changing.
we are, in some cases, beyond platonic shifts.
i chip pieces of myself here and there,
to fit in more for you.
i hold all my best pieces, with nightmares of them slipping through my fingers like sand.
i fear i am reducing myself
to be nothing but dull.
i’m sorry
i’m sorry
i’m sorry
i don’t know who i'm sorry to
i'm sorry
change is normal but you don’t like my culture, my style, or my core beliefs. i’m struggling with it. but this is love... i just want to serve **** and be a little animistic.