my baby is sick. so sick that she rocks with the stench of it
it is always another kind of pain
fingers bent backwards, or
he is no longer on this earth in the dimension of this moment.
it is early morning. walking down campus, eating the remains of the breakfast rotting in my bag
we laugh. i mind the accent marks
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
my baby is sick. so sick that she rocks with the stench of it
it is always another kind of pain
fingers bent backwards, or
he is no longer on this earth in the dimension of this moment.
it is early morning. walking down campus, eating the remains of the breakfast rotting in my bag
we laugh. i mind the accent marks
10.1.18
at this time of year i am writing little novelas in the margins of my spare notebook again
