We’ve got tear gas riot squads aiming straight for the protest lines of our weary souls. Landmines in our chests that we trip over every time we try to hide from the terrifying tremble of our own war torn hearts.
Sometimes things hurt so much they stop hurting. A dull and present ache. A pain you didn’t know existed but eventually, it seeps into your skin, becomes a part of you. A pain waiting to be discovered.