my own reflection has little relation to what you see.  your perceptions of who i am are defined by the pieces i choose to share.  i try to show the ones that are tranquil – soft, gentle, placid.  some pieces flow like liquid, but others are not so easily revealed, hidden in my belly like mud, swallowed down deep.  but comfort reminds me that you can’t see in, so i bare the weight.  my sins may be undisclosed, but they shape like stone.

graciously, mistakes fade.

but in the end, if your semblance contradicts what i tell you, then your own judgments will eclipse.  if it try to contort myself to please, then i’ve waisted my time.  i’m here to be myself, or rather, whatever you want to perceive me as.

if i say what you needed to hear, there was a reason.

if i wasn’t so clumsy with the things i do and the things i say and i’m sorry for the way that you’ll never know me to be in this struggle of our history



hear dalis


river sharpe records

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