HEARTBROKEN: The lonely and the rum
I know them all but not by their names.
Faces etched with clues that say everything and reveal nothing. What's suppressed leaves more traces than what's released, but all experiences leave marks. Fingerprints on the psyche erode over time. Water over stone is kinder— it smooths and softens.
Patterns wear grooves into a face. Into the woods, back out to sun, and squinting. We all have things to hide.
Look out the window, or into a mirror: you know them, too.