bp

it’s the jagged edge of reality
some kind of
awestruck depth

Dead. Set.

claw myself all the way to the bottom,
lacerate the sky-crust in freefall

(don’t know if I choose or am
chosen,
destiny,

matrilineal curse)

thought about seeing an exorcist.
rid myself of this too-bright scorch-earth headplace

…(I’m addicted to being reborn
rediscovering the day after wingless, stupid night.

I miss my light-blinded airplane. don’t want to self-destruct but

something keeps begging my brain to
jam itself straight into the sun

Flay this universe right off my bones.

Crash Glorious till I finally

break

through.

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