A digit, a number, a definitive.
Me.
One small sound that let's your life story slip past the lips of an enneagram.
Each question felt innocent.
Innocent exposure is what they led to.
I'm known for helping. I help. I help. I help. I try to help you. I gave up on me.
Eyes pleaing, arms outstretched.
I'm desperately reaching out for you and to know, I helped.