the first or second part.
which one is it? you always ask questions.
who were you thinking of when you wrote this? i am not overly concerned.
i feel loose. loose. dangling high, stringy. how very. eighty-nine is my lucky number today. tomorrow it will be forty-five. xxxxv. looking back.. it's eggy, sort of lost. if i lie close to your mouth, can i hear your breath? can i hear you breathing if i put my head on your chest & your arm is on my back? can i tell when you fall asleep? when they look up, i close my eyes so they can't see.
i have begun to dream frequently & i have become attune to waking up to write them down. but sometimes i just get so fucking tired. i can't move nor can i breathe or break out of this bubble.
this song makes alters my breathing. patterns, patterns. fuck it. my chest is tight, push the air out i can't breathe in this air.
i should wipe this clean. i'm stepping up to it & i can't help but see. who is that? what is that? contemplate that which is present to you. what d'you see? a straight line across the slant. it scaring me. i can't seem to get a breath in edgewise.
"i am doing nothing important right now at this second in time. if i were hit by a meteor, my absence would cause not a ripple."
that makes three. break it down. break down the barriers & smash them. stomp until your feet begin to bleed. speakeasy. hithithit hit pound fall to your knees.
are you beautiful? do you think you are? no, i asked you.
before.