i am a house made of concrete and many do not bother to visit.
but i feel like a window when he looks at me. i feel so
transparent, so raw and clear. i cannot hide at all. and when he
looks at me - truly looks at me - he looks past all of the dirt
and shards of broken glass. he crawls through the window, cutting
his hands, until i can feel him sitting within the house of my
soul.
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