there was a girl who was tired from working too much.
she pleaded for the work to stop but it just kept coming.
drowning, drowning she felt like she couldn’t even breathe.
sleep didn’t even help her escape the immense responsibilities she had on her shoulders.

they keep coming.
they keep pummeling her.
they keep asking more of her.

she is spending herself.
she is spent.
she is exhausted.
she needs a break.
she needs to rest.

but rest is elusive.
she can’t stop working.
she has to keep on working and keep on going.
staying strong?
what does that even mean.

strength is all she has.
she relies on herself alone.

Akira forest combined.

Voice.
Boxes, orange.
For subtle change in blush.
Nothing.
Really. . . chilling Michael.
Pineapple and say hello.
Yellow on the shirt.
Napkin brain.
Right em down.
Defective poems and it's all fine.
It's all fine.
I'm sure.


Garrett Johnson.

Today I had a new sensation
I wanted to cry
And I couldn't
Now I'm left to wonder
Why

I’m interested in a free trial
to the south of soil.

Just a free trial, you see...

Resting for a while in the roots
To avoid such crushing daily disputes.

rays of light strike the wall where a window should be. the hurricane is over, we haven't yet taken down the boards.
the thing about the storm is how exhausting it can be. it can take so much out of you that all you can muster is enough energy to think. hours expended in forceful trance don't quite seem like hours at all.
more like something else entirely.

i rest my head on the back of a ratty couch. there's a coffee table before me that i'd like to prop my feet on if only i had the strength to. i notice Elizabeth cross legged atop it. she's smaller than i remember. not in the way of height or weight, but in a way i can't quite put my finger on. she looks straight through the boards on the window, though i feel her gaze on me.

a few minutes have gone away. following their departure, Elizabeth turns to me and asks,
"do you remember me from somewhere?"