spilt the water
on the fucking sheets,
woke up in a hurry, human or something dirtier,
uncomfortable in my skin,
in my sweat.
all that void,
weakened then.
these are bad habits, not finite traits.
bad habits, not finite traits.
bad habits, not finite traits.
In the same rush,
I thought my body may actually belong to me,
beautiful or useful.
Smashing pages into one,
screen closed,
I knew how I felt.
It was realized in letters about nothing.
Letters about nothing are very revealing.
PLUTO BLOOMING 