i wanted to write myself a note to say that my fountain pen was running out, but couldn’t because my fountain pen was running out
i wanted to find my glasses, but couldn’t because i couldn’t find my glasses
when i was broken i wanted to talk, i wanted to tell you about it, but the words refused to come out of hiding
thus and ever it was that the most important stories are bashful by nature and prefer the shadows
for stories require ink of pen, spectacles of eyes, and words able to leave the safety of the mouth cave.