to finalise it,
my fingers shake with emptiness.
i knew i was something
where humans kiss
and do not....
never again shall i properly resemble some sort of everything;
the rapid inconsequence of no words
wears my skin; i imagine you can see my skull by now
and i move with
with stories of flowers found headless.
what does it say?
it doesn't care.
it imagines other bodies
and never speaks like it did.
in my mind, i try smashing my girlfists.
everything about hearts screams bloody murder
and i look ridiculous in red.
but go on, remind me how MY flesh is nothing.
i would say, for the last time,
the sound i make is every way i could die
except that i just keep breathing,
is every way i could kill
except that i just keep loving;
as if i am trying to pray but i fuck instead.
and all this time,
all this last life,
i thought maybe i was anything.
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