I can't even count the number of times I've repierced the second hole in my left ear by sheer force of will and a sharp earring.

But now that door seems to be forever closed, like the three other holes before it and so many other aspects of my youth I can no longer access. I will forever revere the scar it left, though I can't really say I miss it.

Rest in Peace, little half-hole. We had some good times, but I know you're happier this way.

And in a way, I am too.

ink :: graphite