axe.thought there was one I might see
with such trembling force
I have become a crumpling reflex.
I don't love her
and I am a tribe of my own,
frozen still, the imposition that roams.
I want to fucking die,
having tried to rest
fuck---
goddamnit I keep trying.
it's not real. saying it out loud and it's even more apparent that it's not real.
how can I re-establish solidarity. so hard to see myself sometimes, something besides an accessory, a memory of being owned.
pushing myself.
patience.
frustration.
rage.
lust.
embellishment.
just sleep.
shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Affection
Do you remember when we used to talk all the time? I do. It was nice. We should start doing that again maybe.
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