you’re FINE. but you begin to notice: hours are b l e e d i n g through your fingers. your mouth is sticky with sleeplessness, & your chest feels clawed out & hollow. there’s a forest behind your eyes, & it’s d a r k . time is getting rounded & strange at the edges, & you’re forgetting — something. your throat is thick with the raw-nerve hurt of an inheld scream, words are sharp under your tongue. your fingers ache with inaction, your jaw is clenched. but it’s okay, you’re fine. yes. W E ‘ RE F I NE. ( graphic @ )
















