turn it into cancer so my body can at least feel something different and i can finally start throwing up all the mildew i used to gorge myself on. there’s a disease and it’s waiting for me to swallow it but i don’t have any salt to coat it in, so i’m just standing here looking like an idiot while the wind blows through my hair, cold and smooth. speaking is a thing you use your body for, but nobody seems to understand that that’s true. i long for the dinners of my childhood where i moved my lips but no words came out until they noticed and i was chastised. tears rolled down but it may have been later. once the memories are gone there’s nothing left to hold on to but the present, so here i go unwrapping again until i can stain the clothes they got for me and make them a new color. it feels like shoulders and shirts to move my arms, and it feels like eyes and mouth to remember you, but it feels like feet and face to cook a meal for those beloved and betrothed under a coastal winter’s sky, beckoning me to come closer. shattered glass is keeping me away from anywhere i want to set the gentle pads of my feet, but i’ll have to walk someday, and don’t say i didn’t warn you. stuff’s coming up but what comes up and down must go eventually. disable me more, i can still move some of these parts and there’s an outcry in the world but i can’t hear it cause my room’s too tight. hands shaking in handshakes that can’t shake the sense something important is about to go down, and i’m begging and SCREAMING for you to FINALLY PLEASE just SAY SOMETHING. SAY ANYTHING.
vomit clear water and try to tell me again that it isn’t the truth.