dirtywhirl.

sometimes you get so mired in the marring of the marrow of all that you deem worthy. sometimes you grant so little mercy. maybe to see what can be salvaged from the dirty work of your hands. to see what's strong enough to survive. the pitfalls. the pricey porcelain. the ettarre you wear yourself in. you're so tarred and tiresome, wearing your scrapes and scars to hide who you are. wearing your scrapes and scars to hide. you've scraped and scavenged enough to know. you should know. you should know.

we build impenetrable walls to protect ourselves. we enroll empires of emperors to defend us. and then we wonder why no one's ever knocking on our doors. sometimes we get so mired in the marring of the marrow, as though it could protect us from the damage already done. when in fact, it only damages us itself.

sometimes what's in the past needs to stay there, in order to make the most of what's to come. in order to be better.