Welcome Home

Slogging through
an eternal winter of the mind,
fingers and heart numb,

eyelids heavy
from frost and self hate.

The world is perpetually dark,
with a pale, weakling sun,
who never quite comes above the horizon,

circling around
the perimeter of the waking world.

Everything is dim.
Everything is heavy.
Welcome home.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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