digital footprint

everything i say is recorded by thousands of little bees buzzing away at my ears and gulping up every sound that leaves my lips. no one is safe from the bees. letters typed and never sent rot in a pile in the back of their minds because even what doesn't make it past your lips is known by them in a heartbeat. i will never escape the hole i've dug with the tiniest choices caving me in and giving my hole new shape. we all have holes. some have made them homes. i love sal from wadanohara and the great blue sea