Fools in a fable

I sound like an infant and I smell of the morgue.

My invitations break your golden thinking, and so I understand when my sensitivity becomes very paralysing. It took decades before I became accustomed to the ways of the world, but with you, I bring clouds with me that rain on your parade, I really want you to love this curse on our house. I don’t want to become one of your problems but I think I’m falling back in love with you.