batti boi

Let me leave this here.

“Why? Because the other kids beat me - black-eyed, bloody. Because that blood still pitter-patters. Because it’s raining. Because my clothes were sewn in sweatshops. Because I’m fat. Because I’m losing the excuse of youth. Because I’ve forgotten to take my medication. Because I’ve taken my medication. Because I can’t get out of bed. Because I’m a burden. Because of brain chemistry. Because I’ve been bred on three-act structures. Because I’m obsequious in ways I’m barely aware of. Because of greenhouse gases. Because I don’t deserve food and shelter. Because I’m sobering up. Because I want to be a baby again. Because I’m selfish. Because I hate my face. Because I could never break things gently. Because it’s familiar. Because it’s comfortable. Because it’s a cancer. Because it’s a dog I can’t put down. Because I’m tired. Because I’ve been proselytised into consumption. Because money is power. Because I’m a palimpsest for embarrassment. Because words fall flat. Because flowers only flourish from the filth.”