Monday, April 13, 2026

April 13: Brittle

 


I am still the child who gloomily broods,

crestfallen when plans go awry.

I am still the fragile entity that fractures

my hurt heart over splintering phrases

and gruesome guessing in the dark

I am still the free spirit once shipped

to prep school, bubble wrapped,

parents blinded by hovering guilt


This is why I am so brittle.

This is why I will always be brittle.


Empathy is the one important thing.

And here I am, open, my soul watered by it.



Written beside “Your Soft Heart” by Nikita Gill

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