If you tap, tap, tap
on the door, I hear
a world will appear before you
with promise of nothing to fear
yet against the rotting wood
my back, hunched
these fingers, curled
for behind, I cannot see
what truly awaits the likes of me
a craven figure cast in glass
nails clasped around broken flesh
for a single tap
I have heard anger the timid beats of my heart
a second, as the hour,
sixty I have befell
yet elusive third, beckoned only,
sought after and wished for only
I do not, I have not, I will not ever hear
Arbie Krae 
Are you doing okay ❤️
Such a beauty this poem, but I feel pain behind it
Xx
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I’m alright! I think! You know when days are the same and even if to someone else they might seem pretty bad to you it’s become an unhealthy habit? I think it’s like that! Hurts my heart whenever I think that I’m in Hawaii for possibly the last time, been hear near 5 weeks, and still not been able to get to the beach. That ol’ anxiety bastard is on the run again. A lot going on though. I’ll get out there, I’m sure! I think I’m more afraid of regrets than anything else.
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