pretty, anxious

“how do you know anything is real”


“you don’t”

“that’s irrelevant”

“because it’s a shared world”

“if it’s real to you, it’s real”



I don’t want to do anything

I want to sleep and sit on swingsets

I don’t want to do anything

what did I lose and where did I leave it



it’s exhausting to be so terrified of living
fears I own, fears that don’t belong to me, fear of fearing


Crooked bastards
always with the secrets”
and sly gestures
stirring up milky dust

which stage is this?

|||| ||||

your love is unlike mine
I am massive in my virtue
absolutely cherubic
cute, huh?
no, seriously

but she
she’s pretty
big eyes
big breasts
no soul

I shouldn’t have looked


fail forever