if one day my skin started to rot
i'd spend the last hours of my life here.


i'd pace back and forth in this familiar
scene with all my wrong-doings on repeat


i'd rewind and rewatch the times i replied
with words i didn't mean and throwing fists i couldn't clench.


I'd reload the entire decade i spent absent
and remind all my friends that i needed them here.


i'd throw myself deeper to stress the recoil
i subjected myself to
and rerun the episodes where i spun around in circles trying to grip the reins on my affliction.


i'll never be able to reconcile the seconds. the days. the years i spent crawling inside of my body looking for a warm place to nest.
in fact i think i'm still searching.


if my skin is starting to decay, the rest of my body will soon.
but i can't stop pacing and the tapes keep playing
for me to reminisce on my remorse.
and all i can think about is how badly i want a redo.