step 1: facial cleanser

take a deep breath, and meet your filthy eyes in the mirror. you know what you’ve done. you know that you will grow beyond it, you will realize your falsehoods and blind spots. and the people around you still hold it in their chests. every stumble, every anxious giggle, and that fucking typo in your email, carved into your chest.

step 2: toner

drift away from yourself, slowly. play this forward so far out into the future, you can’t recognize your face. yeah. that’s good. let it fester, and wallow, let your eyes go dark and strange. buckle under the weight of something no one is expecting but you, and trace the paths of your veins all the way out into the future.

step 3: moisturizer

meet your eyes in the mirror. ocean blue. feel that water, as it pounds against your shoulders, turning a blind eye to your years of debt. and you are forgiven. again, again, again. turn off the water, feel your hands on the cheap bathroom counter; it’s blue, or so it seems. blue like the sky, blue like the sea, blue like my eyes, like all the things you’ve never said to me. blue like tossing, and turning, one eye open. even when i’m asleep.