conch
just woke up from a nap I did not intend to take. it's warm today, and sunny, which I'm glad for. I've been home for a couple of hours now after a trip to my parents' house, where I spent the night for the first time in a long time. it felt weird, and reminded me of one of my poems, which I'll share with you now. like slipping into old, familiar clothes comfortable, but not flattering. it was originally about something much different. I wrote it to describe the way it feels to slip backwards after making progress against a bad habit. the bad habit in this case is being a bitch to my brother, who I have complicated feelings toward. he had an episode, so to speak, and I became very angry, yet secretly pleased because I knew that I had a valid reason to feel this anger, and I would milk it for every drop of justification it would give me. so after months of being less cold and more friendly, I returned to the old ways of leaving a room just because he walked in, prete...