i. trapped in cliches about exploding stars and only existing in sporadic stagnant structure phrases slip with every blink of an eye and my home is emptying out day by day things packed away nowhere to be found at least for a while we need a break to become afraid of a month to become afraid of inconsistent communication to become afraid after the click of a phone reminders of anniversaries i want to forget guilt of everything feeling connected dry eyes, dry mouth, a headache the inability to take in a full breath
ii. jumping off of a moving train thinking there would be no tracks but it’s exactly where you stumbled into the woods with a trail of letters coming from behind it was too easy to follow you home now the trail is thicker and deeper than before lined with white lilies and nicotine a society obsessed with blame and guilt it was a matter of time for someone to find company in 80 proof at 40% you’re in the hands of the trees now and the trees can be so reckless when handling something so fragile
iii. now there’s ash and thorns in the hallways and bridges we never knew existed these days the sun seems to set around noon and we’re all neglecting our duties the thought of the past rips the fabric apart faces are beginning to look smudged the calendar days are all cleared off the stomping sounds are getting closer the glowing eyes in the corner are getting brighter and the darkness is almost comforting but all the consolation is becoming white noise why do you walk with weights in your heels don’t you know this floor is made of glass?