fhhhhhhhhhu

sometimes i feel like i have infinite power and i just love someone and freak out because i can't trust. for good reasons, for old reasons now gone, I don't know.

whatever problems i have left are whatever problems celebrities on the stand have. a wan face while someone describes their shower burger or dog shits covered in paper towels on the marble floors. a private hell of my own construction, a devil, making myself at home, i brought a blankie that smelled familiar to my bed but it's the equivalent of eggs and broken glass i don't think i've smiled on this trip

i feel like i'm letting down the world not smiling as if this is a meaningful commitment i've made to my public

nothing here is really hard other than the task of knowing another can ever be. to take on a dream to have a kid, haha, i don't know. who cares? we're all gonna die but i'll die later than others

it wasn't so hard, a light touch. the little ridges in my shoes just made to kiss leaves, yellow, orange, still intact with organelles, sweet in this way, moving like a lava lamp

when i look up, you are either with me or afraid. and this is the place where friction scars, joined here it is impossible to touch.

leave space for jesus they said, don't give the milk for free they said, i was still part of something else before becoming something new, ready to lay it all down, the type of girl who lies about what happened, how bad it is, even why. having those words would negate a reason to do it. it's not so bad, it's my own hand, and it stimulates a pressure valve

Clear headed enough to step over shit filled with plum seeds, cold air turns breath to blood, clear headed enough to know where I was going. I sat on a bench and could not move my arms.

An overgrown sandbox at my feet. A square of unconsidered damp and perfume. It was a Saturday and no children overturned from houses. I pictured every tablet glowing behind a wall. The men who sit across the street in the cafe are not cast out, but avoiding the work of the house, an admission.

I want to cry but I don't remember how, and it's too close to a veto. The sky is grey, the pavement is grey. The green looks grey, my eyes feel color when I drink. I see flushed cheeks.

Scrambled, how do I say, I'm sorry when I don't know how to be sorry for this, and I waited, and I was called a teenager, and I feel so strange, I don't know how to rely or not rely on others.

I paid money to be abject, I came all the way here. I put tears in an envelope and asked you to print the label at work. I feel I owe everything to you. Learning to do less for you. I think I'm exempt from being sad or happy. I thought I wanted a dog but now it's one more thing I can coat, I am trembling less like a leaf and more like a paw, saw toothed, I didn't want to need you, this partnership is embarrassing both of us now.

going crazy

it's not just a feeling, it's a means to an end

hijacking my nerves, an ice cube thrown at me in the dark sauna trips a circuit

I say please and thank you

when the heat wave hit I winced, I curled

I feel like an ornament again

I pop another antihistamine and he follows me to the lockers

a roman bishop with a micropenis ruining my evening

I stopped walking to the water when the stray woman came for a hug

I stopped sitting in the train station, kisses on my thighs, chicken legs I cooked too dry

they're filling in the cove again

houses by the waterside get vertigo, fall backwards,

I dream of a house by the water but I can't fill it yet

I breathe in and gurgle

I would like to die but they won't let me yet

when I close my eyes the checkerboard of the carpet, your figure is burned in orange

when I open my eyes you won't meet them

in case I'm someone else, pull this lever

i can't trust myself not to replicate

When I gave you all of the secrets of my grief

You didn’t deserve them but I was ready to unveil the stars of hope, revealed as black holes, scarred.

I didn’t let my eyes glitter.

I didn’t let anything cinematic happen.

I deleted all luxury of disassociation from the bones of the dead horse at the bottom of the dark green well

I would have hoped you would remember, but you couldn’t imagine it happening, or not happening.

In every story you told a parallel of tragedy

How fucking sad.

How fucking sad and wretched your life was that had childish sparkle

All of the times you could have been held.

I slid like a worm through the apples fallen from the tree and I was sick but I wouldn’t stop eating.

I didn’t need to go to the happiest place you’d known and I didn’t need prophecies, lessons in how to flinch.

I raised my right fist and slid it into my stomach and when I took it out there was only a seed

You wish you said nothing. You can only see that a sea without poison is a better sea. A sterile ocean wreck is just saline. It is not a reef. I needed you to kiss every soft petal of your fingers and make every year of you a cake and hold a press conference and let them eat you and every adult alive. I needed every layer of you, remember them on the MRI, you looked like a demonic painting, I needed them to come together into a woman.

Hacking a defense system is nothing but war - and I can't maintain the loving gaze of a supermarket baby.

I never have a bag and I can't pronounce za'atar and my blush could be misread as an alarm bell.

Why would I touch you if you can't feel it.

how do we run into vestibules to the sea? if it is not ethical to melt, frogs love stagnancy. All water is in a table.

The question was, can you burn a fire in installments?

Is it a bad time?

The coals in the dorsal fin and hind flanks don’t hurt anymore and the corresponding bathwater is for a new species of wood lice.

None of the elements will dampen each other.

The pain fits beside a bundle of thighs, slows elegantly into gils

The shanks hold the same marrow.

If I had any remorse, I can’t find it. In its space is a fertile flood

In these physics, a small push creates infinite motion.

Pink mud isn’t so special in some parts of the world.

A cup made from it will always belong.

A mark on your neck is not a sign of possession.

Slap stick comedy, a tumbling force, a distinctive oil.

The hot coil in my belly isn’t fair

no one’s been feeding me.