another grey repeating night
the scent of burnt wicks of scent less candles replace the dog scent of my room
he snores in the middle of my bed
i weep on the side of it
the playlist that is playing is reeking of dense distress and distortion
in my ear and out the other why won’t it suppress the memory
im so tired of reliving if i’ve forgotten it and the forced amnesia puts the weight of the world on my small 5’2 shoulders
i don’t amount to much because i value what cannot be translated into currency
it hurts me head thinking of burning the sickles scent less wax that once bled fragrant aroma
my aura reeks of despair
candles in my dark room are burning out
and i am falling apart into the crevices of my broken down floor