Well, good night.

If I began to reveal the cracks branching across my mind
I might not be able to stem the openings
And we might both fall through the gaps of fear and anxiety
That I have patched with scotch tape and band-aids.
I can see the shaking of your own tectonic plates
The fault lines under us both stretching well beyond our feet.
There will be a quake
We both know it
And we stand casually in doorways
Pretending nothing’s happening.

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