i'm still picking up pieces of myself. i cry on the evenings when london can't stifle your sound. a constant drone, on and on in my head. i thought it would be over by now, come to a close. i'm skimming memory, circling the half forgotten parts of it all. i'm taking a leave of absence, it's hard. i'm young, surrounded by life yet often lonely. i'm still picking up pieces of myself, all while still looking for a place to set them down.