one year ago,

I claimed I was in a box [ ]
(never opened, kept shut because I wanted it to be closed)

then there were months in between of Falling In and Out of, and also lots of quiet and alone and then some white sheets and a little water and a bit of sleeping on the floor and being spoken to in french while completeing full circles (but not until just lately,) singing in and never playing out, being afraid and not being afraid of spiders and lying, lying, and being lied to. feeling helpless and being inspired in little bits and pieces, falling apart and being put back together.
thats not even close to everything , if anything.



and then there is now.


0 (last year)

0 (now)

(one year from now ) 0