it’s the kind of morning when i’m thinking in run-on sentences
thinking in line breaks
because the sun is asleep
and my bathroom floor is a block of ice.
i chewed my tongue in my sleep
my toothpaste is acid in the wounds
i think it’s my brain trying to get me to stop talking about you.
once i carried my life on my back for four days
my muscles separated from my bones
my feet bled
the skin peeled off my face but
i wasn’t thinking of you.
i won’t wear mascara today.
it would adorn my cheeks by noon
— L.A.G.
desolated
Beanie*
xSamanthax