Jan 6, 2020
I’ve decided to use your shirt as a paint shirt now.
It feels good to be coloring over pieces of you.
-CJ Kisch
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I’ve decided to use your shirt as a paint shirt now.
It feels good to be coloring over pieces of you.
-CJ Kisch
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My isolation isn’t me on some deserted island and my depression isn’t walls I built six feet high, waiting for someone to come tear them down.
I wrapped myself in plastic wrap, layer by layer, head to feet. I can still move. I can still see you and you can still see me. But it’s a little stuffy and it’s hard to breath. And it’s over my mouth and over my ears so I can still hear you and you can still hear me but it’s all kind of... muffled.
And the plastic is thick. So the there’s tear marks from the people who tried to get through to me. They had to make it hurt. But eventually they left because it takes effort to claw through all of that.
So when people pass by they smile and I still see it. But you can’t actually touch me and I can’t actually touch you and I’m not alone but I’ve never been so l o n e l y.
CJ Kisch