Unravel. The light you thought you see continues. Gaslit and rounded your feet are left to pace once left behind though it’s an ugly task it’s one to be completed. Hurt-soaked in my autumn I was swinging through waves of dulling orange (death pooled and lovely for children to dive into) and yes hand and hand I thought it lovely and almost it was (though cruelty is never lovely nor its faces). 

Joy is no calculation, no mere commodity. The best reason to trust remains: because you’d like to. I have many regrets and only some of them are people.