I look around and realize
How little I know of the friends that I’ve spent hours and days with
The trials in their minds and souls
The fragility with which their thoughts are shaped.
Clumsy, I stomp through this web
Unknowingly cutting ties and lines and lives…
Stumbling through, tracking flour through the snow.
Now with gloved hands I pick up pieces
But the glue makes my fingers stick together
So I look around and realize
I’m slowly losing what I was asking for.