Asking for a friend..

At what age do stockings stop from riding down our thighs?
And when does sunrise grow old?

At what age do we stop pointing at cats and cows with excitement?
And when does deserving love start to unfold?

Who’s keeping the time of when being bystanders to massacre would stop?
Or all our timers dont work anymore?

At what age stage do we stop accepting pain from the people who love us?
The words they use intentionally or not so much
Or the intentions they have clear or not as much.

At which heart rate does it give up hope of them realising the dire monstrosities they left behind for us to face?
Or for them to own up to their daggers in our hearts and minds?

At what age does the mind stop repeating the horrors they said so casually?

At what time of the day do we stop feeling the heaviness fall into our laps out of nowhere just because we saw thier names in our journals or tongues?

My mind
My heart
My labyrinth

May you be embraced with a lot of love that it overwhelms and overflows every inch of your corners and curves.

My heart, my mind, my labyrinth – midjourney