Experiencing life through its endings and beginnings can feel like being turned inside out.
There are moments when I move through the world as though my insides are exposed, tender and visible to me, yet somehow invisible to everyone else. I wonder how others seem to move through life with such ease, or whether I simply see more deeply than I know how to carry.
I feel everything.
The endings. The beginnings. The unraveling. The becoming.
And then, inside out, I go again.
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