I Used to Remember You

My blurry resolution is half-cocked and homemade at best.

Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

There’s so much I need to say and I’m unsure if I have the time to address such complexity of where I’m coming from.

Home, for me, was a heartache.

Pain was always a nosy neighbor. The uninvited guest dead set on becoming the life of the party.