Mortuus

to be honest for a while now the world has passed over me in static. i feel it rumble overhead, unruly and unhappy, tire tracks over skin. when i close my eyes i see only refracted light and rain. no matter how much i sleep, i am exhausted over and over again. i have tried everything. girls and pills and makeup and prayer and chastity and sobriety and violence and tearing off a fancy dress and putting it on again. i might just be permanently shaped like this.

something about you, though. you cut into the soft bits. everything turns color-swift and loud. like you can push your hands through the fabric. like you can find me and pin me down. like all the running and fighting and biting down was pointless; i'd been home for longer than i'd counted. the first time you looked at me - really looked, caught my anxious eyes like a bird - i felt some little rabbit kick her legs, bound up somewhere in the razorwire radio silence dominating my heart.

i can't be known like that. i can't be touched like that. you can't love me like that.

“What a terrible feeling to love someone and not be able to help them.”