My arms tighten too much like a knot would
To grasp the hand of a faceless Love
Lost and restless feet that know no home
Treading with barren toes in dust, a cracked heel tracing bloody footsteps
The ancient turtle will always outcrawl my wandering soul
Yet again we meet - “today it shall be me,” yet again I say
My scars are stitched by a hundred good intentions.