Clenched (v.2) (THT)
Distinctly I feel it
That ever present feeling of plummeting
Heaviness profoundly declines into the depths of the unexplored
I forgave them.
But like a fresh piece of paper squashed into a tiny imperfect ball
The paper is permanently changed.
No matter how much I attempt to mend the original
The fragments linger
Thousands of lines indent into the substance
It cannot be renewed to what it once was
The heart recovers yet it clearly remembers.