(the lore is dead. it perfumes my body. my body is a funeral home. the mourning in me)

god, i’ll be real. the lore isn’t dead. my body isn’t a funeral home. i’m depersonalizing. i’m half eaten. i’m entering my romcom era and my body is political. it doesn’t feel safe so i take my body home. i tell her hard truths. i feel bad doing it. she’s dumb. she’s like a baby. look what happened to her diary. how can she survive outside