sunday

if you stay still for long enough, it feels like a tsunami crashing down on you, doesn’t it? in that moment of silence, right before calamity?

but it’s fine, really. i’m better now, you know? i just have to keep breathing, and remember my dead man’s float. because it only lasts for a minute, but right now i am bright, and effervescent, and perfect. and theni’m not anymore.

and then i’m shattered glass on the floor. and i never meant to hurt you like this, it just happened, okay? and now there’s blood on my hands, there’s blood on the mirror, and i swear to god i’m looking, but i can’t see anything beautiful here.

just a thousand puzzle pieces and secret rooms and this creaky floor. i’m treasure chests and barbed wire fences, and i can never fucking tell the difference, between safety blankets and prison bars. between conspiracy theories, and public health alerts. it’s all the same, it’s all black and white and an endless sea of fucking grey, grey, grey.

and i guess i just don’t know what to feel anymore.

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