think my brain is sun-bleached i haven't been outside in days it's just sweat just sweat swimming in rivulets down what's left of my eyebrows down what i haven't pulled out yet
when i hold your hand it feels like violets like tasting strawberries but i only feel it in my mind it's only there projected on tile floors on the cash register
if i was out of my head i wouldn't have to just pretend i could kiss you but you're the only good thing living in there.