hollow chill

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Gen ¦ for villsie ¦ 143 words ¦ 2024-03-26 ¦ Personal Poetry

Stream of Consciousness, Depression, Exhaustion

It never leaves me. I cannot leave.

until your lips are chapped
until your heart is sore

and better, and better, and better--

in one whole day i have expended the entirety of my loveliness

i have forgotten my friends,
thinking that they ought to forget me

a warm blanket becomes a thin shawl becomes a tarpaulin

and i have no more.

(but the body continues)

in one pale afternoon i have scrounged away what remained of my wellfeeling

money drips down the vent and i refuse to back away from the drain

in the mirror, this charlatan ghost of loveliness and the empty shape of a welcome sound

what i could be, if i wanted to, but if i am not, then i do not want to

forget wishing. what are your cruel, animal wants?

and ignore them. you know the body continues

no needs. no needs. no needs