the days roll in neat and clean. nighttime taints. love with limerence. only when we do break we realise the thing we were sure we could hold onto was nothing real at all. there aren't many but pride is real. so is love, but I say that hesitantly. mood swings are very, very real. I'm grappling, hurtling. you are too. keep holding onto blank space. there's little hairs growing over my lip again. on my arms. there's so much to see and I really have hardly had the taste of anything. you've probably seen yourself as the worst person in the world before, I imagine. I imagine a lot, but now less and less because I can only run so far. even you. you who said were good at running. you too.
say // take me to your spot? I have many but I forget them often. do you have any, really? maybe you have get so alone to scour out your corners on earth.
individualism does die out. or at least blurs at edges. you know now why everyone's doing what they're all doing. they need to. and I need to. you need to. no one's to blame.
april 4
